


Catch a Flame

by Ty_R_Bluent



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Amnesiac Dean Winchester, Angst, Arson, Character Death, Comatose Dean, F/M, Firefighter Dean, Hospitalization, Hurt Dean Winchester, Injured Dean Winchester, Lawyer Sam, M/M, Major Character Injury, Professor Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-02-13 18:17:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 72,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12989775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ty_R_Bluent/pseuds/Ty_R_Bluent
Summary: Dean Winchester had everything. A patient husband who stayed up far later than needed on nights that he worked late. His little brother was getting married. Co-workers who were practically family. A job that he loved even with the long hours and constant danger.Then it was all taken away. The worst part about it, he doesn’t remember a damn thing.Now he has to try and catch that same flame of his old life all over again. To catch a flame of the memories he doesn’t have.





	1. Chapter 1

It was nearly two in the morning. But he couldn’t sleep. Dean’s eyes flashed from the ceiling to the walls. His arm tightened around the man who nuzzled into his chest. He had woken up half an hour ago. Something burning in the inside of his chest. Something that just wouldn’t settle down. The worst about it, this wasn’t the first time he ever felt something like this. Absentmindedly he felt the scar that ran over his arm from the last time this feeling came. The shadows of the dark room seemed to dance happily. As if they knew something more than he. This bad feeling was the start of a long string of  _ bad  _ events. Or at least one, really. 

 

Alright so last time he had this feeling he’d gotten nearly a month off of work due to injury. He shook his head and tried to sit up. 

    A calm hand splayed over the middle of his chest. “You alright?” 

    Dean successfully sat up as blue eyes pierced the darkness. “Yeah, bad dream.” His fingers brushed through his husband’s dark hair. “Go back to sleep baby,” 

    “Where are you going?” Cas sat up as Dean got up. 

    “Glass of water,” Dean looked back as Cas lay back down. 

    “Just come back,” 

    Cas didn’t see the smile that lit Dean’s face. “You know I will.” 

 

Maybe the worst part about this feeling, aside from what would inevitably come with it, was that he never told anyone about it. He’d never warn Cas, or even Sam. He didn’t need to worry them. They had enough to worry about to begin with. Dean sighed as he flipped the faucet on, filling the glass. He leaned against the counter as he took a sip. The pads of his finger running over the scar. Eyes looking out the kitchen window at the moonlit sky. Everything would be fine. 

 

It had to. 

…

 

Chomping down on his self-made breakfast sandwich, Dean watched as Cas fretted over his most current work. 

    “Cas, baby, you’re gonna be late if you keep this up.” Dean had set his breakfast down and looped his arms around the professor.

    “And you’ll be late if you keep watching me!” Cas’s eyes widened at his sudden outburst. This new painting has had him riled up for days now. He was stressing about it way too much. 

    “Hey, hey,” Dean whispered, rubbing Castiel’s arms. His lips ghosted over the other man’s neck. “We’re on the same team here.” A line both had thrown out in the midst of a fight, or beginning of one. 

    Cas turned in Dean’s arms. “I’m sorry, Dean I’m-” 

    Dean leaned down. His lips melted over Castiel's. “Hey Cas,” 

    “Hhmm?” Cas’s eyes were closed, his hand had moved up, fingers brushing Dean’s cheek. 

    “Shut up.” 

    “Gladly,” Cas chuckled with a wild grin. He leaned in for several more kisses. 

…

 

    “Well chief, I’d think you’d want to wash up before you ran around like one of Cas’s latest paintings.” Benny laughed as Dean walked into the firehouse. 

    “The hell you talking about?” The Winchester’s brows furrowed. 

    Benny snorted. “It’s all over your face, man. Cas marked you up real well.” 

    Still confused Dean lifted his fingers to his face. There was a rough texture, and Dean groaned. He made a beeline for the bathroom. One look in the mirror revealed he had an array of blue shades and white on his faces. Mostly limited to the side that Cas’s hand had been running over. 

_ That little shit.  _

 

It wasn’t difficult to clean up, but he sent a teasing text to his husband anyway. 

_ ‘If you wanted to mark me so badly there are other ways’  _

The reply came in a matter of seconds. 

_ ‘I have full intention on taking that offer’  _

 

Dean couldn’t help the laugh as he went about the miscellaneous chores they had around the house. He preferred maintenance. Saving people, fixing things, his day job. He became entranced in the squad truck that had been giving squad 4 a hell of a time. Dean was seeming to be getting it all taken care of. 

    He wiped his sweaty brow with a grease covered hand. He tapped the front of the rig. “All right, start ‘er up Bobby.” 

   The older mechanic did just that. The big rig coming to life without even so much as a sputter. With an approving nod Bobby cut the engine and climbed out. Rufus, the fire Chief called on his friend to help out with the trucks when it wasn’t quite a one man job. “Good work, boy.” He clapped Dean on the shoulder. It was getting on to be lunchtime. 

    Then Dean’s phone started ringing. “Give me a sec Bobby.” The Winchester walked away, answering the phone. “Sammy,” he greeted with a smile. 

_ “Hey Dean, I was wondering if Bobby or Rufus won’t be a tight ass if you could swing by-”  _

__ “I heard that!” Bobby grumbled. Rufus also mumbled out a “Hey!” 

    Dean laughed. “Caught red handed Sam.” Dean looked back at the chief with a questioning gaze. 

    “This hard ass is alright with it. Just take a radio.” Rufus had heard it all too. Standing with his arms crossed before continuing on to whatever little mission he was on beforehand. 

    “That hard ass is alright with it. Hey!” Dean yelped when he was suddenly smacked in the back of his head. 

    “Should get Rufus to put you on mop duty.” 

    “You wouldn’t have the heart old man.” 

    “Keep that up and I won’t have second thoughts.” Bobby snarled jokingly. 

    “I think the runt was needing a hand with equipment.” Dean waved off the had-been fireman. 

    “Kid has a name Dean.” Bobby smacked the young man again. “Not everyone is as big or pigheaded as you. And you walked into that one.” With that Bobby went to make sure Alfie was getting along alright. For as much as he was around the house he was just as much of the team as any of them were. 

_ “Having fun there?”  _ Sam questioned from the other end of the phone. 

    “Just  _ dying  _ Sammy. Be there shortly.” With that he put his phone away, before patting the side of truck 67. That was a hell of a good number. “C’mon boys, let's take a ride.” 

    “You’re just itching to get out aren't you?” Charlie questioned as she poked her head out from inside the ambulance as Dean pulled himself up front. Benny was at the wheel. She and Jo were doing inventory. 

    “Little brother calls, so I answer.” He pulls the door shut, but hangs his arm through the open window. “Try not to miss me.” 

    Charlie laughs as she rolls her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself Winchester.” 

    Dean gives a cheeky two finger salute as Benny brings the ring to life and drives her forward. 

 

Dean tugged the strap around him that held the radio, before adjusting his suspenders. Sam had wanted to meet him at the Roadhouse instead of his busy office. It happened to be the lunch hour anyway, so when Dean sat down there was a plate of fries that surrounded a cheeseburger. The only question he gave was an arched eyebrow. Sam’s leg was jittering under the table. 

    “What’s up with you?” Dean questioned before taking a hefty bite from the seeming peace offering. For what, he was probably about to find out. 

    And off to the races they went. “There's just something I couldn’t wait to tell you-” 

    “ _ Sam _ .” Dean interrupted. “That’s my knee.” 

    Sam quickly straightened up, having shifted to swing his leg. “Sorry, sorry.” What had his panties in a twist? 

    “Sammy if you stole my-” 

    “No, Dean. I didn’t do that again.” The elder brother wanted to snort at the phrase.  _ Again _ . 

    “Then out with it.” 

    “I was wanting to tell you and Cas at the same time, but I just had to get this out. Jess and I-” 

    The conversation was interrupted once again, but this time from the radio that rested around Dean. 

    “Shit,” the elder Winchester cursed. “Gotta cut this lunch date short baby brother.” 

    “But Dean-” 

    “Duty calls Sam.” With that Dean bolted through the door before Sam could even blink. Through the front windows he watched his older brother climb into the fire truck. Benny already had the lights going, and the moment Dean shut the door the sirens blared. Sam looked at the near half eaten burger. With a sigh he flagged Ellen over. 

    “You didn’t get to tell him did you?” Ellen placed Dean’s food in a to-go box either of them might drop by the station. 

    “Nope. Guess we’ll have to over the dinner Jess suggested.” 

 

Little did he know that nearly an hour or so later he’d be getting one distressed phone call from Castiel. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect this many people to be interested in this story so quickly. So, I decided to get chapter 2 up for ya'll. If I keep writing in this story as often as I have been, then it seems I might start a publishing schedule for it, or would you rather I just post whenever? Please leave a comment on your thoughts, and enjoy!

 

    “I friggen’ hate Tuesdays.” Dean rubbed his forehead, sending a glare to Benny. “You seriously called him?” 

    “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. Wasn’t my call, and you were unconscious.”  

    “What can I say, Alfie nearly suffocated me on the way. kid tries a little  _ too _ hard.” 

    “You know he’s sorry.” 

    “But he didn’t need to go  _ that  _ far. I like personal space.” Dean winced as the nurses still fretted over the cut on his leg. Seriously wasn’t it clean by now? Then they started messing with the burn on his arm. 

    “Speaking of Cas.” Benny’s head poked out into the hallway. 

    “ _ Oh no. _ ” He could hear the commotion in the hallway. 

 

    “Let me through, that’s my husband in there!” 

    “This one’s for you, Lieutenant.” Benny ducked out. 

    “Damnit. Benny!” Dean called after him. “You walk out on me I’ll assign you to mop duty for a week!” 

    The bastard was still walking out. 

    “Then a month!” 

    “Side by side these two situations… Dealing with Cas like this isn’t in my job description.” 

_ Touche. Smug bastard.  _

 

And suddenly Cas was on top of Dean as they wrapped up his leg. 

    And before it got too out of hand Dean shut down the worry. “Cas… Cas… Cas!” Finally the man hushed. “I’m alright really. They shouldn’t have even called you. It’s nothing life threatening, and the only thing it’ll do is get me two days off tops.” 

    Cas’s gaze shifted to the burn on his husband’s arm. 

    Dean’s fingers guided his angel’s chin so their eyes met. “It looks worse than it actually is, promise.” 

    “Really?” 

    “Really.” 

    “Then we should probably call Sam.” Cas rose his eyebrows. 

    This caused Dean to groan. He held out his hand for the phone, having left his in his locker. 

    It only rang once.  _ “Cas is he okay? Do you know how bad it is?” _

    “He didn’t give you that much to work with did he?” 

_ “Dean?” _ The elder Winchester ripped the phone away from his ear at the shout. Christ everything hated him today. 

    “At least I think so. I’m gonna go deaf if you keep doing that.” He muttered. “False alarm. You can get those panties of yours outta a bunch.” 

_  “Jesus Dean. If we keep up like this I’m going to die before you.”  _

    “Let me guess-” 

    “From a heart attack.” The brothers spoke in unison. 

    “Oh, you know Cas. A worrier that one.” Dean held up his free arm to defend himself against his husbands backlash. He was already feeling better. That feeling was gone, and this was most likely the worst of what would follow it. He was fine. Cas was fine. And Sam-

_     “While I’m talking with you, could we maybe meet up sometime?” _

    “For someone who seems to hate spending time with the world’s awesomest older brother, you do sure spend a lot of it with me.” Dean smiled at the way Cas shook his head. “Need I remind you, you just saw me today. I know I’m awesome, but this is ‘give me an award’ type of awesome.” He could practically see Sam’s eyeroll. 

_     “What about tomorrow night, at the Roadhouse? It can be a double date of sorts.”  _

    “Woah look at you,” Dean whistled for emphasis. “Hot shot college grad callin’ the shots.” He shifted the phone as they started to leave. All the medical attention he’d ever want in a week was already given. Now it was just time to go home. 

_   “Dammit Dean.”  _ Yup. Sammy was definitely, utterly done with his shit. 

    “I think it sounds great. But you can’t keep me out too late Sammster. My bedtime is 7:30.” 

_ “Dean,”  _ Sam started to groan, but caught himself.  _ “Rufus is still letting you on the 24 shift?”  _

__ “Yes mom. Hey, it sounded worse than it actually is. Cas and I are walking out to the car now. I’m great at what I do, what can I say Sammy?” 

_ “A simple yes would suffice.”  _

    “Boring, bitch.” 

_    “Alright, see you tomorrow. Does six sound good?”  _

    Dean quietly relayed the info to Cas, getting an approving nod. “The angel’s in, we got ourselves a fancy dinner date then. See you around Sammy.” 

_     “Later jerk.”  _

 

Come to find out when Cas dropped Dean off at the station that he had his lunch waiting for him. 

_ Not bad Sam, not bad.  _

 

… 

    “Cas it’s just dinner.” Dean spoke as he pulled on his favorite canvas jacket. 

    “Exactly.” Was all the answer the blue eyed man gave as he tightened his tie. 

    Dean turned around with a small laugh. “Well, guess I’m not complaining. This could be useful.” He took hold of the navy tie, pulling Cas into him. Dean pressed his lips to Cas’s. “I’m into the holy tax accountant look.” 

    “I’m not even an accountant.” 

    Dean shrugged. “Imagination,” he lightly tapped Cas’s head. “Goes a long way.”  

 

Wednesday nights were the wildcard nights at the Roadhouse. Sometimes large groups of people trickled in for a mid-week party. Sometimes it was a medium size crowd. Tonight would be one for the latter. Greetings had been done away with, food pre ordered and served. Sam had even gotten Dean a beer. Now isn’t that nice? The next question was, what exactly did that little shit have up his sleeve.

    “We were hoping for something new.” Sam made damn sure not to say anything about fancy. “But nowhere would take a reservation so unanticipated.” He pushed his empty plate aside. 

    “Sam, it’s fine. I actually like that we ended up here.” Jess smiled, looping her arm around his. 

    “I agree with your lovely girlfriend Sammy.” Dean finished the last of his and Cas’s plate. He made sure to give the girl a joking wink. 

    “That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.” Sam’s smile dropped. “She’s not my girlfriend.” 

    Dean’s hand paused with the napkin at his mouth. “What?” 

    At the same time Cas squeaked, “excuse me?” 

    Sam’s smile was near blinding as he picked up Jess’s left hand. “She’s not my girlfriend.” 

    A triumphant laugh escaped Dean’s lips. “Sammy boy!” He stood as the couple across from him did as well. Instantly scooping Jess into a hug that lifted her off her feet. “I thought you’d be the one to tame the moose.” 

    Sam laughed as Cas pulled him into a hug. Dean spinning Jess around, before allowing her feet to touch the hardwood floors once more. Quickly he tugged Sam to him. 

    “Congratulations little brother.” His smile beamed over to Cas. Hell it felt like just yesterday he’d told Sam he was planning to propose to the artist. Then he pulled Jess in too. Cas slipping his arms around Dean for a big group hug. Chick flick moments be damned. This moment called for it. 

 

So there would be another Winchester added to the misfit clan. Jess was a damn great choice. Cas and Dean left with big grins on their faces. Cas had his arm around Dean as they drove home. Classic rock softly buzzing through the stereo and the motor of the Impala on the way home was a good ending to the night. 


	3. Chapter 3

The poor alarm clock hardly had a chance to beep before Dean’s fist crashed down on the off button. He let out a wild groan into his pillow. 

    “Kill me now.” His job was great. Hell, it was awesome. Except for the fact that he had to get up at  _ Five fucking thirty _ . Alright, the 48 hours off that followed weren’t bad. But still,  _ five thirty!  _ Only his brother would  _ want  _ to be up at this ungodly time. Or at least it felt that early.

    Cas rubbed between Dean’s shoulder blades. “I’m making pancakes.” He sing-songed in his husband’s ear. 

    Without a second thought, Dean’s arms shot up beneath him, lifting his tired body. “I’m up, I’m up.” 

    Cas snickered as he slipped out of the bed. 

 

So he didn’t do all the work, Dean got straight into making the bacon and sausage. When it came to getting them on a plate he had to lift the pan above his head to miss Castiel. He gave the art professor a wink as he slid the food onto a plate. Cas just shook his head as he flipped the pancakes. 

    “How about lunch?” Dean asked as he encased Cas in his arms. 

    The angel’s chest rumbled with his laugh. “Only you would be thinking of lunch before we’ve even eaten breakfast.” 

    “Food is one of the highlights of the day.” 

    Cas rose an eyebrow to this. “And another?” He looked over his shoulder. 

    “You of course.” Dean quickly saved himself. 

    “Flattery isn’t getting you very far Winchester.” 

    “Damn.” 

    “Mmhhm.” Cas hummed, finishing the rest of their meal. 

 

They sat down and dug in. Cas looking over several papers from school while Dean paged through the morning paper without interest. A light conversation still going on. 

    “Don’t wait up for me in the morning,” Dean spoke. “It’s great Cas. Really, but I’d rather you not murder your student’s tomorrow. I don’t think they need their art professor chewing their heads on a Friday.” Cas had that habit of staying up to wait for Dean. First it was just with regular shifts; that or he pretended to be asleep during a 24-hour shift. 

    “No promises.” 

    Dean’s gaze lifted. “Cas-” 

    “Dean.” He didn’t even lift his gaze. Dean’s previous knowledge kicked in. Cas  _ had  _ to know he was okay. The reply silenced the firefighter. 

    Breaking the thickness in the air, Dean set a hand on Cas’s shoulder. “You know you don’t have to worry about me.” He offered a reassuring smile. “My bad luck streak happened three days ago. I mean, what could go wrong?” 

    All Cas could do was shake his head at this. Of course he bit back his other response when he replied. “You’re too cocky for your own good.” Everything could go wrong, he wanted to call it out. 

    “You got me there.” Dean patted his husband’s back before taking both plates to the sink. “It’s gonna be a long day.” 

…

 

Whatever was on tv was just white noise as Dean lightly dosed on the couch. This would be the only nap he’d get for the day. No one really dared to disturb the lieutenant. Alfie made sure to be on the opposite end, so not to bother the sleeping form. Then a certain smell made its way to his nose. And suddenly he sat up.  

    “Pie,” Dean turned as a familiar laugh bubbled behind him. 

    “Damn, I’ll have to remember that tactic Cas.” Benny joined in. 

    “What about pie?” Dean blinked a little groggily. 

    “Lunch, Dean.” Cas smiled. 

    “I’m comin’.” The man was still half asleep as he staggered to the table. He made sure to give Cas a peck before sitting down. The aroma of food was one of the best man-made alarm clocks. Dean was salivating just with the smell. “I am so lucky,” he muttered as he dug in. 

    Castiel sat back and watched Dean dig in as if this was the first and last meal he’d ever received. The smile that curled his mouth faltered at the very reason Dean ate like this. He had John Winchester’s A+ parenting to thank for that. 

    “Hey,” Dean elbowed the man beside him. “Why the long face?” 

    Cas chuckled at this. “You’re talking with your mouth full again.” 

    Dean swallowed before speaking. “That’s not an answer.” 

    Castiel simply shook his head. 

    Dean looked at him for a few more moments before reluctantly returning to his food. He wanted the food, yes. But he always wanted to know what would ever upset Cas just a little more. Cas joined in, pushing his thoughts away. 

    “How’s class been?” 

    “A few grumbly young adults that are struggling a little on compositions with the time limitations. But nothing new there.” Cas glanced around. “No slave work around here?” 

    Dean snorted. “Slave work. That practically sums it up. No, we finished that earlier. A few things we’ll hold off 'till tonight just to have something to do. Matters how many calls we get from not till then.” 

    “You’ll be thinking slave work when I hand you a mop, Winchester.” Rufus snipped as he walked passed with a newly refilled coffee mug. “How you doin’ Cas?” The Chief paused. 

    “I’m fine. You?” 

    “Well with this thorn in my ass here. As alright as I can be.” He tapped the back of Dean’s chair as he spoke. 

    “I’m not that bad.” 

    “You’re right, cher. You’re worse.” 

    “You’re not helping Benny. You’re supposed to be on my side.” Benny held up his hands in defense at Dean’s chiding. Dean flipped him off and finished his food as Cas did the same. Now they dug into the two slices of pie. Mostly Dean though. After he finished his own, he tried to rob some of Cas’s. 

    “Dean you already had some.” 

    “Tastes better off of your plate.” Those green eyes were bright with mischief as he took another bite from his husband’s slice. 

    Anything Cas had to say was halted by the alarms going off. The moment the warning called for the ambulance and truck, everyone jumped into action. It was a car accident. 

    “Well that was cut a little short.” Dean leaned over, kissing Cas. “Thanks for the lunch.” Another greedy kiss stolen. “See you tomorrow.” A promise of his return. That he’d come back. 

    Cas watched his husband and co. rush to get their gear. Shortly after the sirens blared from both rigs accompanied by the flashing lights. Castiel fell in love all over again with the lieutenant in the passenger seat of truck 67. “See you tomorrow.” He smiled as they drove off to do their job. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any of you Dark Angel fans, theres a reference ;) 
> 
> Also, I've decided that I'll publish chapter 5 tomorrow, before publishing on Thursdays.

From the moment the treads of his boots hit the ground, Dean was surveying the wreck. Smoke rolled from beneath the hood of a silver car. The red one was smashed to all hell. It was also the moment he started dishing out orders. Who was to go to what vehicle. 

    “Alfie.” The new recruit was frozen at the sight of blood all over the silver car. “Focus.” He tapped the young man on the side of the face. “Go help Cole.” 

    Alfie gave a small nod, eyes still glued to the silver vehicle. Though he didn’t have to be told twice. 

    “What’da think?” Benny was at his side as they strode to the first car. 

    “We gotta work fast,” Dean tested the door. It wouldn’t budge. “Alright we need to pry it open. Ash-” Before he could finish Ash had gotten the equipment over to them. “One, two, three.” The door screeched in refusal but still popped open with both men prying it. Dean quickly climbed in, taking a glove off to find the woman’s pulse. “Hey Jo!” He called out after finding one. She shifted, the blood rolling down her face. “Hey, hey. You’re in good hands. I need you to stay calm. 

    “M-my son.” Her eyes grew wide. “How is he?” 

_ Shit _ . He glanced back. Sure enough a young boy was slumped against the beyond-openable door. This was just as Jo poked her head through the passenger side. “I’m here lieutenant.” 

    “I’ll let you take care of her, but I got to get to the boy.” 

    “The boy? Wait Dean-” But he was already sliding through the small space what the console left and the caved in hood. 

 

The boy’s mother was swiftly taken care of. Dean tried to wake him, making sure he was alright. Thankfully the boy opened his eyes. 

    “You’re alright. We’ll get you outta here soon. Can you tell me your name?” 

    “J-Jessie.” 

    “Hi there Jessie, my name’s Dean.” Jo passed him a collar. “I gotta put this C collar around your neck. Try not to move for me.” 

    “Okay,” Jessie spoke as Dean started to strap the collar around his neck. 

    “Does anything hurt?” 

    “I… I can’t move my arm.” 

    Dean glanced, sure enough, the boy’s right arm was at an odd angle. There was a tap on the window. “My friend Benny, he’s gonna have to break the window.” Dean slipped off his heavy jacket to place over Jessie. “Wanna be a firefighter?” 

    “Yeah.” 

    “Here,” Dean set his jacket over the boy, and for extra measure set his helmet on the boy’s head. There wasn’t much room for Dean to backup, so when he gave Benny the go-ahead, he turned away. The glass rained onto his back. “Alright Jessie, now here comes one important job for a fireman.” 

    “What’s that?” 

    “Getting out.” Suddenly the heat burst from the front of the car. Flames reached from under the hood. Dean acted quickly by lifting Jessie and handing him to Benny. Charlie was the one to get him on a gurney. Garth and Ash were suddenly there to help pull Dean out before the others sprayed down the burning car. The man who drove the other car seemed just fine. Staggering with a cut to his head. That made Dean’s blood boil much more than a fire ever could. 

…

 

    Benny walked along Dean into the firehouse. The lieutenant rubbing his jaw. “Bad enough the son of a bitch was driving drunk. He didn’t have to hit me.” 

    Benny opted to stay quiet, but his chuckle escaped anyway. 

    “What?” Dean demanded. 

    “It’s nothin’” 

    “My ass.” He huffed. 

    “Dean,” Charlie came over, moving his hand. 

    “I’m fine.” He tried to bat her away. 

    “Just let me look at it.” 

    He tried to shoo her off, only to get smacked. “Alright, alright.” 

    Charlie poked and prodded at the forming bruise. “That’ll hurt in the morning.” She commented, seeming satisfied that it wasn’t worse. 

    “Thank you, captain obvious.” 

    Charlie winked. “Anytime 494.” She gave a mock salute. 

    Benny rose an eyebrow as she walked into the lounge room. “What’s up with that?” 

    “I honestly would be alright with not knowing for once.” Dean gave a soft groan. “I need a figgen’ nap.” He declared before heading for his bunk. That car accident had swallowed up most of the afternoon. Hell the paperwork was worse after. The sun was on its way to setting. Just a handful of hours to go. Still in double digits, but almost there. Dean closed the door to his small little office. He heaved himself onto the bed, at the very least trying to pull one of the blankets over him. Then he was interrupted by the alarm. 

    “Son of a  _ bitch _ .” The pillow muffled his growl. But as the rigs were called for  _ again _ , he had no choice but get back up. The time saver was the fact he had left his boots and pants on. All he needed was his coat. “C’mon! Get those asses moving!” Dean boomed. Benny got their rig moving and onto the street. The Squad truck not far behind. The lights bounced off the buildings and the sirens wailed. 

 

Though as they got closer to the fire, the black smoke billowed in the air. Flames reached up and tried to touch the evening sky.  

    “Oh shit,” Cole muttered. 

    “Damn..” Garth’s eyes went wide at the sight of the building. The warehouse lit the area better than any man-made light. Damn thing was a candle. 

    “Hot damn,” Ash added. 

    Alfie leaned forward to see what the seasoned boy had, and notably gulped. Dean didn’t blame the kid. His first year and he’d be thrown to the hounds with this blaze. 

    “Heads clear boys, we got this.” There was another truck and ambo already on scene. 

    “Heads up,” Benny spoke. “Hells court is here.” 

 

Tonight Truck 33 should be headed by Captain Abaddon. She had a hell of a crew that the boys from Rufus’s firehouse never were able to get along with. Full of stuck up pricks like Fergus, Cain, Nick, and their newest member Ruby. She’d be a new recruit like Alfie. Rufus had turned her down, the main reason why she ran with 33. Even Cain use to have a connection with truck 67. His brother Abel had been at 67’s house for years. But he was killed in a fire that happened to be right before Dean had gotten the job. Back when Bobby was still sporting his fireman's gear. 

    “Clear heads,” Dean warned. “We can’t handle this on our own.” It was evident how bad this was by the red vehicle that parked next to Charlie and Jo’s ambo. A truck that belonged to none other than Battalion Chief Rufus Turner. This damn little Kansas town hardly had enough firefighters to make a Battalion. Combined with the next town there was just enough for two. He should be at home. But this was something that Dean was honestly happy that he’d been called in for. 

     They all climbed out. 

    Rufus was already speaking with Abaddon. Her red hair neatly spiraled into a bun. He waved the teams on. “Get in there!” 

    “You heard him.” Dean boomed. “Alfie you’re with me.” Normally he wouldn’t string the kid along with him. But this fire was bad enough, he’d prefer the kid to be at his side so he can keep his eye on him. Dean took his hat off, glancing at the rookie as he pulled on the mask. A silent terror was shining in the kid’s eyes. The Lieutenant couldn’t blame him, but at the same time felt relief that the kid was scared. He didn’t have to worry about the rookie doing something really stupid that could get them both killed. That very terror is what kept good men alive. 

 

From the moment they stepped through the doors the others went in different directions. Alfie stuck close to Dean. So much that each time the Lieutenant stopped he’d nearly run into him. They got up the stairs. Heat from the fire around reached them even through their coats. 

    “Fire department, call out!” Dean boomed as they made their way to the third floor. Garth and Cole had taken the second. Flames cast red and orange glow over the charred walls. “Call out!” 

    “Lieutenant,” Alfie called over. He waved for Dean’s attention before opening a door. “In here.” The kid disappeared from his view. 

    “Help!” The call was more audible now as Dean stepped into the room. 

    “Calm down ma’am.” Unmistakably that was Ruby. The question was, where was everyone else from truck 33? 

    “Stay back.” Dean’s hand stopped Alfie from getting any closer. “Floor’s gonna give.” His trained eye saw the signs that there was fire directly beneath the woman and Ruby’s feet. At the rate she was going, she’d get both of them killed. Dean lunged for the rookie just in time. The floorboards creaked before giving. Ruby’s foot dangled in mid-air. 

    “You hitting on me Winchester?” Ruby snarled. 

    “You wish. Thankfully I’m already taken.” He adjusted his grip on the rope that kept him connected to one of the sturdier support beams. “Alright ma’am, hold on to Ruby and don’t let go until we get clear of this floor.” 

    The woman nodded frantically. Quickly she did as told, and by the time anyone else entered from 33, they were already on their way out of the room. 

    “You should keep a closer eye on your rookies Nick.” Dean spat. “You’re lucky I made it here in time.” Ruby was helping the woman toward the stairs. Hopefully she’d stay outside once she got there. If 33 wasn’t gonna watch her then she didn’t need to be here. 

    Nick Lucifer made a hissing sound. His last name was ironic, a perfect nickname for the man. Instead of starting a fight in a burning building as Dean expected, Nick just turned and went after Ruby.

    “C’mon Alfie. We still gotta clear the floor.” 

 

They went along not finding too many places left to check. Hopefully they had all gotten out already. By the time they found someone trapped under some debris their radios were crackling. Undoubtedly Rufus barking out orders that weren’t quite coming through to them. Dean lifted the burning rubble as Alfie helped out the civilian. He could feel the surge of the fire rising. This wouldn’t turn out good. The energy was building in one of the worst ways. It was only a matter of time.

_ ‘Dean report.’  _ The radio crackled. 

    The heat was intense. He could feel the sweat slide down his face. “Alfie and I are on our way out. Gettin’ bad up here Chief.” 

_ ‘Alright. Get those asses down here.’  _

 

Dean would have smiled if it weren’t for the worsening conditions.

    “Alfie move!” Dean barked. The floors were starting to screech under their weight.

    And thank God the kid didn’t question it. He took off with the civilian. They had just burst from the area as the fire surged and blasted around the room. The force rocking the very floor the kid stood on. 

    “We made it!” He smiled. “Dean-” 

 

But there was no answer. No one stood behind him. Only a wall of flames and a caved in floor. But most notably, an ash streaked fireman’s helmet that lacked an owner.


	5. chapter 5

There was a ringing. It took him a few dazed seconds to discover it wasn’t his ears, but the alarm attached to his coat. Which meant he hasn’t moved in a while. Dean didn’t feel as if he could move. Every single nerve was burning, reminding him of where he lay. The flames around him cast a red hue all around him. Black patches of ash floated down from the ceiling. The stuff was smeared on one side of his mask. If the situation was a little lighter he’d be alright with comparing it to snow. Then Dean discovered it wasn’t ash that blocked his view, but blood. His own, no doubt. The part of his brain that wasn’t distracted by the pure agony his body was in, tried to reign in his situation. He was laying on his side, pain searing through his left shoulder.

     _‘Dean! Dean report!’_ Rufus’s voice filled his ears above the alarm that hung at his side.

    Dean’s fingers inched toward his radio. He gritted his teeth in the renewal of the burning. Darkness was starting to swallow his vision all over again. His head pounded so badly that he couldn’t even think straight.

    And suddenly there were hands gripping his numb arm. “I found him, Rufus. He’s in bad shape.” The sound of Dean’s air mask was making an eerie rasp. It was working harder than it needed to. That meant there was an air leak. Only so much time before the thing malfunctioned. That was if it wasn’t already.

 

Dean gritted his teeth as Benny lifted him from under both arms and started to drag him. His vision swirled into nothingness. It was a series of drifting in and out of that very state.

     _“C’mon Dean, stay with us.”_ Benny paused, setting the Lieutenant down. “Dean!” He shook the man’s shoulders effectively rousing him.

    “I’m up, I’m up.” Dean wheezed. His chest burned with his sides. His throat was closing up. The air had a bitter taste.

    “Jesus,” Benny muttered.

    “We aren’t… out of the w-woods y-y-yet.” He was choking on his own breath. Speaking sent him into a coughing fit that caused stars to line Dean’s vision.

    “Hey, hey, hey.” Benny tapped the side of his mask. The air was getting stale and full of smoke. “What hurts?”

    “ _Everything_.” Dean managed to choke out. A thick and metallic taste ran over his tongue. Over the crackling of the fire around them, there was a screeching from above them. Something was starting to give, and Benny didn’t seem as if he’d move them anytime.

    “Requesting back-up. Guys I can’t carry him out on my own.” Benny talked to the radio. “He’s hurt too- Dean!”

 

Dean lunged as well as he could in his state, managing to push Benny out of the way as more debris fell. The pain erupted in his chest and back as it came down on his bad shoulder. He would have screamed if he already wasn’t gasping for the air that wouldn’t enter his lungs.

    “Shit, Dean!”

    It was starting to go black again. The world was fading away.

    Then it was all lifted from him. Three more pairs of hands and voices surrounded him. They rolled Dean onto his back.

     _“Alright boys, let’s get him out of here.”_ If Dean wasn’t half out of it already, he’d be surprised to hear Fergus Crowley’s voice.

    Any joy that could have been there was drained from him as he was picked up. Dean’s howl of pain was raspy and breathless.

     _“Almost there Dean.”_ Benny.

     _“C’mon Winchester, stay with us.”_ Crowley. _“Charlie and Jo have already left. It’ll have to be Tessa and Meg who take him.”_ There was a mumbling as Crowley communicated that with the paramedics from their firehouse.

    The pain was becoming worse with each movement. All the little tugs and pulls, until the roof was no longer above them, but the night sky. Blurry stars dotted the black above that coincidentally was the same black that was framing Dean’s vision. The men set him down on something soft, or, at least softer than the ground. People and objects blurred past them as Benny took off his mask. He groaned as he was lifted into the back of the box. The ambulance. Dean’s eyes closed, fading into the darkness when there was a tap on the side of his face that didn’t feel caked with dry blood.

     _“Eyes open Dean. You’re gonna see Cas again. So stay awake.”_

 

 _Cas…_ The name caused a small smile to weakly curl his lips. He could see his angel.

     _“Dean!”_

That adorable grin lit up his blue eyes.

     _“C’mon Dean.”_

The laugh always made Dean happy to hear.

     _“Benny, focus. Stats are dropping.”_

His calming voice.

     _“Meg step on it!”_

Whenever Cas concentrated on his painting, deciding what to put next.

     _“Dean stay with us!”_

How he always seems to have paint on his fingers and even on his face.

     _“Hold him, I need to intubate.”_

His angel.

     _“Not Like this Winchester. Not on my watch.”_

That smile.

     _“Cas still needs you, so start_ fighting _.”_

The way the sunset shines behind him. His angel was here with him.

     _“Benny hold him down.”_

And so was Sammy.

     _“Dean, c’mon buddy.”_

Jody and Bobby.

     _“Dean.”_

Even Ellen and Jessica, and everyone from work.

     _“_ Dean _!”_

His family was with him. He’d be okay. They’d be with him in the dark place.

     _“_ **Dean** **_!_ ** _”_

…

 

Benny paced around the waiting room. Rufus gave him the rest of the night off. Someone needed to be here for Dean and Cas when the man showed up. His head raced with what had happened on the ride over. Tessa had to put a tube down Dean’s throat. It had been too difficult for him to breathe on his own. Through all his years of fighting fires, of seeing comrades going down, Benny had never been this terrified. Dean had _flatlined_. That was before he even thought of the seizure. Benny had been around for the last year Bobby had been at the firehouse. He was even on shift for the apartment fire that ended the mechanic’s firefighting career by putting him in a wheelchair. Of course the stubborn SOB ended up walking again. But this, this just felt different. The other people in the waiting room seemed calmer. But their sleepy eyes followed Benny from time to time. Eyeing the heavy coat he draped over one of the chairs. God, he couldn’t imagine how Cas was going to react. The hospital would probably wake him up with the call. Hell it was almost one in the morning by now. Even Benny knew that Dean normally called or texted his husband by now on late nights. To say he was alright and Cas should go to bed. Needless to say, his heart stopped when he heard the next voice.

    “Benny?”

    “Cas,” Benny spun around to face the man.

    Cas quickly stepped up to him. Those blue eyes were glassy as he balled Benny’s shirt in his fists. “What happened? I-is he… what _happened_?”

    “Last I knew he was still kickin’.” Benny looked away as he shook his head. “He and Alfie were clearing the third floor. Biggest fire we’ve had all year. Pressure built too high. Room practically burst, and he fell to the first floor. Hit his head hard on the way down.”

    Cas was now using Benny for support. The man’s knees gave out as he let out a small sob.

    Benny caught him, lifting him back up. “This is Dean we’re talking about. He’s gonna make it.” Maybe it was for Cas, but maybe he was still trying to convince himself. The worst still needed to be said. “C’mon, let’s sit down.” Benny guided Cas to a seat. “Oh, and before I forget.” Benny took a second to dig through his pocket, before pulling out a golden band and dropping it onto Cas’s palm. “While he was still lucid on the ride over here, he handed me this. Wanted me to give it to you. Doc probably woulda taken it off.”

    Benny hated doing that, but Dean had asked him to. Silent tears ran down Castiel’s face as he turned the ash smothered band in his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be next Thursday! -Warning: may become every other Thursday if I get behind in writing, only time will tell-


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I lied, Wednesdays sound a lot better than Thursdays. I know I'm indecisive -but are you really gonna complain?
> 
> Happy holidays everyone!

The clock ticked on, Benny called Sam so Cas didn’t have to. Sam and Jess showed up together. Slowly the team of truck 67 walked in the door. Rufus having arranged their replacements to come in early. Even the members from truck 33 came in and joined the waiting. Other people waiting looked at this sight with wonder. A gathering of firemen and women waiting to hear the news of the downed firefighter. Jess leaned against Sam, her eyes closed. Everyone was awake, eyes opened or not. Rufus leaned against the wall next to Benny. Meg and Tessa sat separately. Bobby, Jody, and Ellen had come in, Jo sitting by her mother. Charlie had her legs pulled up on the couch. The number of people waiting to hear about Dean Winchester was nearly clogging up the waiting room. Good thing it was practically void of anyone else by now. Nurses and doctors that walked by would pause to take in the sight before needing to get back to whatever they were doing beforehand. 

 

   The clock was loud. Ringing in all their ears with each tick, each pass of both hands. The weight had settled on all their shoulders. There were a lot of times where they’d have already known that their comrade would be okay. This just wasn’t one of them. The waiting had the sticky texture of molasses and moved just as slow. Each footstep to walk past the room caused everyone to look up in hope for news. None would come, and they’d be subjected to more waiting. Hours felt like days. Even though the morning was dragging on, they all stayed. It was the need to know that chained most of them down. Dean Winchester had saved several lives the night before. One of them happened to be a firewoman from truck 33. They owed the man this respect. Even Nick was quiet as he tapped the arm of his seat, receiving a few glares for the action. All that attention shifted as the doctor cleared his throat. 

    “Is there a Castiel, or Sam here?” The doc looked around when no one moved. Sam set a hand on Cas’s back. 

    “We’re all here for the boy.” Bobby grumbled. Jody set a hand on her husband’s arm. 

    The poor man in the white coat gulped at all the eyes looking at him. He’d let this slide so far. “Dean Winchester is stable.” The room seemed to let out a collective breath. Few even so far as to utter small whoops. “But he is far from being out of the woods.” Any celebration was crushed with the handful of words. 

    “H-how is he?” Cas squeaked out. 

    The doc seemed to look at him with a sad gleam. “He’s not breathing on his own. Dean had a seizure during surgery, and as I understand on the way here as well.” Benny nodded slowly. “Mr.Winchester I wish I could say everything would be fine, but that would be unrealistic with all the complications that have risen. Concussion, collapsed lung, broken ribs. There were deep wounds on the side of his head, and signs of possible skull fracturing. The internal bleeding at the least is no longer a problem.” The doc lowered his clipboard. “Would you like to see him?” 

    Cas rose without a second thought, leaving Sam with everyone else. The blank hallways were near dead silent aside from the pair’s footsteps. “So have we passed the worst of it?” Cas’s brows furrowed with growing worry. 

    “It’s too early to tell. We’ll get a better idea of that when he wakes up.” 

    “When will that be?” Cas nearly cried when the doctor stopped and turned to him. 

    “No way to tell. Best case scenario, in a couple of days.” He pulled open the door. 

    Immediately the breath left Cas. His feet were glued to the floor. So many machines were hooked up to Dean. A tube down his throat, one in his chest. Wires that seemed to tangle around his pale form. Bandages wrapped his limbs in cocoons. His shoulder, his legs, nearly one half of his face. A bag of blood hanging next to the IV, resupplying the firefighter’s body of what it lost too much of.

    “I’m taking my leave for the night. A nurse will be by to check on him within an hour. Between now and then… it’s past visiting hours, but I would be none the wiser. Not too much excitement.” With that the doctor turned his back, practically giving Castiel his consent to break several rules all in one night. 

 

His blue eyes turned back to Dean as he walked in. Bold freckles splashed over his face. How Cas wished so badly for him to wake up now. To be able to look into those green eyes again. It nearly made him smile at the thought. Dean would bitch about a tube in his throat. He’d have a hay day with the one for the collapsed lung. The tears streamed down Cas’s face as he laughed. Pulling a chair up, he took Dean’s hand. If only he could be bitching now. 

 

The other visits nearly took up that remaining hour as the heroes of truck 67, 33, and both ambulances made their way into Dean’s room. Damn near each one of them left something for when Dean woke. Sam and Jess took up the large lounge chair on Dean’s other side. Most of the men and women from Dean’s firehouse stood outside the open door, not quite ready to leave their fallen brother. 

    “Alright gentlemen, ladies.” Rufus looked at the men and women who answered to him. “Get on home. We all need sleep, and to leave the rest of Dean’s family. Go on.” Rufus waved them off. Reluctantly they all trailed down the hallway. Soon it was just the three of them. “This includes the two of you.” Rufus gave a nod to those who sat around Dean. With this silent goodbye, he took his own leave. 

    Charlie and Benny looked at each other. Benny stepped over to the small table where everyone had left the trinkets, he set down a quarter. An age-old inside joke for him and Dean to laugh over when he wakes. He looked at Bobby and Jody, to Sam and Jess. Then those blue eyes met those of Dean’s husband. 

    He took a breath to compose himself before forcing the smile. “This is Dean Winchester we’re all teary-eyed for. Man’s come back from things worse than this.” Benny nodded unknowingly more for himself than anyone else in the room. The man paused in the door. His confidence melting into something more sorrow-filled. “But just know, whole firehouse has y'all in their thoughts.” He tapped the wall before exiting. 

 

This left just Charlie, Jo and Ellen had left shortly after the rest. She tenderly took out her wallet. There were folded pictures of her and Dean. The older brother she never had. She set them next to Benny’s quarter. Her favorite was the one where Dean had his arm across her shoulder. With that big goofy grin of his. It had been before he met Cas, and before Charlie was able to introduce them properly. 

    “He’s right you know.” Her voice pierced the quiet. “Dean has been through a lot.” She took hold of Castiel’s free hand. “But he has you now.”  With that she went up to the unconscious man, kissing his forehead as he had done for her countless times. The only difference was she was careful of the bandaging and stitching around Dean’s head. “Just wake up, please.” She whispered. 

    With that, the five were left with Dean and a heartbroken hope that stained the air like smoke. 


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel’s eyes fluttered open to the soft _whoosh_ from beside him. He was leaned over in the chair, and near half on the bed beside him. A smile curled his lips that his head was next to Dean’s. Cas left his eyelids drift shut at the thought that the night before was some out-of-hand nightmare his own mind conjured up. But the beeping was there to remind him that the night before had not been a dream, or the many that had been before that. It’s nearly been a week. A few more days and Cas would have to go back to work. Sam and Jess already have, though their afternoon visits haven’t yet faltered. Just like nearly every firefighter that worked with Dean. There were others that came from the dubbed shift he’s heard Dean call “hell’s court”.

    Cas let out a sigh as he opened his eyes once more. Dean’s face had more color to it than the first night he had spent here. The doctor had wanted to take a CT scan, possibly an MRI after. Questions still floating around without answers.

    The day mulled along. Cas watching behind a thick layer of glass as Dean was pulled into the tight-spaced machine.

    “Will this answer why he hasn’t woken up yet?”

    “At the least, it will point us in the right direction.” The doctor glanced at the computer screens.

    Castiel felt the anxiety surge. All those wires hooked to Dean as he was fully inside the giant metal contraption. Dean never really liked tight spaces, even though Cas has seen him do it countless times during a call. Suddenly there was a tapping noise. It then graduated to a banging.

    “Get him out of there!” The doctor ordered, rushing out of the room. Cas and nurses on his tail. The fear built inside his chest. Of all places for Dean to wake up.

    He was gasping. Those vibrant green eyes dulled with pain wildly flashing about. He thrashed as the table pulled back, though it was viably draining him.

    The doctor and nurses voices were frantic. What they were saying didn’t exactly reach Cas’s ears. He was frozen in place at the way they had to hold Dean down to assess what was wrong. The entire time Dean was fighting them, having had tried to take the tube from his throat. His attempts at anything were weakening too quickly.     

    “That damn rib,” the doctor growled.

    “Dean?” Cas spoke as they rolled the man out of the room and down the hall. Cas struggled to keep with him. “Dean!” Then the green looked right to him. “Everything’s gonna be fine. It’ll be okay.” They held Cas in their gaze as they floated shut once more.

    Cas merely blinked before he found himself being pushed back into the waiting room. A sullen look at the clock, Castiel noted Sam would be here soon anyway. He sat in a chair heavily. Now all he could do was wait. Wait for all this bad to pass, and Dean to come back; just as he always promised.

…

When Sam had first arrived he had tried to get Cas to tell him at least _something_ about what happened. On why his brother had been wheeled into emergency surgery. _Again_. All he received was silence. Not even the utterance of a sound. Sam was in a position where he didn’t know who he was worried for more. His brother, or his brother-in-law. Charlie had come in at some point, talking with Sam. She was the one who ended up making the call to the others to update them on Dean. Jody had come in before Bobby, pulling Sam to her as she took some time from work to just sit with at least two of her boys.

 

The waiting didn’t quite last as long this time. When the doctor came in, he motioned for the small group to follow him.

    “Dean had a panic attack during the last few moments of the CT scan. Him choking on the tracheal tube would be at least one, or the only source of his panic. The adrenaline boost would have given him more strength than what he has currently. With all the thrashing and even our administrations and moving him around had caused one of his fractured ribs to break. That along with the former led to a reopening of his internal wounds, and a few external.”

They were standing outside of an ICU room once again. Castiel swallowed thickly. His stomach sank in anticipation since here came the bad news.

    “Your husband,” the doctor eyes moved from Cas to Sam and Charlie. “Your brother,” so Charlie had told a white lie, sue her. “Has fallen into a coma.”

    There it was. The air in the room, hell the freaking world, was gone. If there was ever an ability to breathe, Castiel had no damned clue. He nearly felt jealous as Sam let out ragged breaths.

 _How did this happen? He said he’d be back._ Cas clutched onto whatever was within reach, the feeling of the texture beneath his fingers nearly grounded him for a moment. Surely the wall would crumble under his weight. How could anything be sturdy at this moment? The world was becoming blurry. _He said he’d come back._

    It was Sam’s voice that broke through the haze of Cas’s mind. “A-and?”

    The doctor sighed. “We wait. We had theorized he was in one before he woke up during the CT scan. I believe that had only happened due to all the moving around, and when his rib broke. Along with that, his lung has collapsed once again. Though this time it was easier to fix. It sounds much worse than it is.”

 

_“It looks worse than it actually is, promise.”_

 

    “We - the other doctors and I- believe that he can hear us. Dean, it’s as if he’s just sleeping. There have been cases of such. Of course, such a thing is still bleak. We are still unsure when he will wake up. I’m not one to feed false hope, but Dean has a better chance than most.”

 

_“See you tomorrow.”_

 

    “Though, he’s still not quite breathing on his own. His lungs need more time to heal. He’s proven he’s a fighter, I’ll give that to him. Sometimes the body just needs to shut down before it can start up again. Give itself time to heal.”

    “And the head injury?” Charlie looked to the white-coated man with sad eyes.

    “That had been the cause of his seizures. The CT _was_ able to bring in a few results. On the right side of Dean’s head, there is a skull fracture. Accompanying that is a concussion, both most likely having happened at the same time. Thankfully it wasn’t as severe as I originally thought. Whatever he hit his head on was also the cause of the wounds along the area of where the fracture is.” The doctor sighed as he shook his head.

    “He was missing his helmet.” Charlie’s eyes widened.

    “Pardon?”

    “Alfie had come down with Dean’s helmet. That would have left the side of his head wide open.”

    “That helps explain a lot, thank you.” The doc gave them all another glance. “I’ll be back later, there are a few things that I’d like to look into with the tests that we’ve done. The healing process will take a long time, but, there is a very bright chance that he’ll make it there. Dean is a strong man.”

 

Sam and Charlie were the first through the door, but Cas lingered in the hallway. A heavy weight settled on his shoulders and inside his chest. He hated himself in that moment, because for the love of everything he did _not_ want to go in that room. He would trade anything, his soul even, to be able to have everything back to normal. Castiel wanted to walk in and see those green eyes once more. Though the man that lay on the bed was probably far from such a simple activity. Cas trembled in his boots. Why, for the love of God, did this happen?

 

His own thoughts rolled in his head.

 _Dean promised he’d come back. He’d come home._ Cas peered through the open door as Sam spoke softly to his brother, Jess resting a hand on his shoulder.

_He’s coming back._

 

_Right?_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The days will be marked in chapters from here on out -almost as if characters are now aware of time. hmmm- 
> 
> Also, some (nearly all) of my other SPN books are mentioned in here. Save for the ones that are still in the process of being written. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter! comments are always welcome

**_March 13, 2014_ **

 

The days all seemed to stick together. That annoying happenstance when the tape flutters down and adheres to itself. A single day impossibly stuck to the next until they became a mangled ball of useless office supplies. One rolled into the next, and so on. Nothing special ever really happened. Those who worked the same shift as Dean had come in weekly. Some of the members of truck 33 visited from time to time. Sam, Charlie, and Bobby made an appearance almost every day.

 

Cas, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually slept. When he did it was in that stupid chair right there next to Dean. Dean had never left Cas, so it was definitely going to be mutual the other way around.

 

**_Week 2: March 20, 2014_ **

 

The hospital walls existed even behind Castiel’s eyelid. Dark stubble along his jaw was the beginnings of a beard. The same people visited. Nurses came and went. The doctor checked Dean over every other day. Still, he lay there hardly responding to the doctor’s testings.

 

**_Week 4: April 3, 2014_ **

 

He continued to need the breathing tube. They had tried to take him off of it, but that didn’t end very well. His smaller cuts were starting to heal. Mostly, nothing had really changed.

 

**_Week 6: April 17, 2014_ **

 

By now all Dean’s stitches had been removed. Everything was still the same…

 

**_Week 7: April 24, 2014_ **

 

They had forced Castiel out of the hospital. Sam stood by him making sure he’d take care of himself. He slept on the couch of their home even though there was a guest bedroom. Cas had to go back to work eventually. Nothing about Dean’s condition had changed. A blessing and a curse.

 

**_Week 10: May 15, 2014_ **

 

Castiel stopped by every day after work and spent the night on weekends. His students were starting to miss the quirkiness of their art professor. Benny was taking over Sam’s self-proclaimed duty. The younger Winchester diving into a court case, though came in near daily to see his brother. Sam’s birthday has come and gone. Dean still laid still in that bed. White bandages covering most of him. At least his shoulder had healed and his lung hadn’t given any more grief. Tube down his throat and no signs of waking. Not even Castiel was shaking this nightmare.

 

**_Week 13: June 5, 2014_ **

 

His shoulder now was out of the sling. Hell, all the bandages had been taken off. There was nothing _wrong_ with Dean anymore. So why wouldn’t he just wake up?

Nurses now came in and moved around his arms and legs after looking at his vitals. He looked much smaller laying on that bed, so much muscle mass has just drifted away. Just like Dean seemed to have.

 

**_Week 16: June 26, 2014_ **

 

Castiel started reading to him. There were these silly books that had entertained Dean so much. The two main characters were named Sam and Dean running all across the country to hunt monsters. There were other books that connected to the main _Supernatural_ series such as _Hell’s Melody_ -Castiel’s personal favorite- and _The Queen._ There were several others, but those two were the most notable. Cas smiled, he had been reading another connecting set of books that belonged to the _Us_ series when he had first met Dean. Those books went on through the eyes of Dean’s daughter Eden and her seemingly personal guardian angel Castiel. Cas had been enjoying the third book _We are Us_ , actually. Dean had dove into the books to find common ground and a conversation starter when he first -quite literally- ran into Castiel.

 

Cas couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Dean had been the bull in the china shop that morning in the little cafe.

     _“Damn it must have hurt.” He paused, slightly shocked he had gained Castiel’s attention. “I think I’d know a thing or two about pain, I work for the fire department.”_

_“What hurt?” Castiel looked around, patting his sides._

_“When you fell,” he cleared his throat a little as Cas gave him a confused look. “From Heaven I mean.”_

 

Though Cas had finished the _Us_ series two weeks ago. Now he was on Carver Edlund’s _The Queen_. He liked this one very much and knew Dean would have loved it. Koda the main character is the daughter of Bobby Singer, the father figure of Sam and Dean -coincidence right?- and all the twists and turns that ensue after she makes a deal with a demon. At least that was what the back was saying. Castiel had never taken the time to read this book, even though Dean wouldn’t stop going on and on about it. He understood why now, even though he was only just now getting to the time jump in the middle of chapter 6. It had gone from after the father-daughter pair had come home from the hospital after the “accident” and now to several years later.

  

    “' _July 15, 2004_

 _The Tv still ran playing the western movie as snores filled the room. Bobby passed out on the chair and Koda taking up the entire couch on her stomach. Lucia curled up on the floor beside her. The aging dog and the old man were tied with who could snore the loudest._ Meanwhile _the_ cowboys _on the screen dashed around firing their guns. No one stirred. There was a creaking from the porch as the wind chime of old parts that Koda put up forever ago tried to untangle itself without success. Bobby awoke with a jump at what had sounded like a school bus._

_‘Koda! You’re gonna miss the bus!’ He said while still trying to wake up._

_A chuckle came from the blanketed lump on the couch. ‘Daddy, I graduated college six years ago. It's the dead of summer.’ She shifted without opening her eyes. ‘And today is my day off_ -’”

    Every single word became a jumble as the hand within his twitched. Cas’s heart stopped when he thought back to a few days ago. He had been walking out when Dean’s monitors had started going insane. The doctor ended up extubating him. Finally only supplying air through a nasal cannula. His mouth when dry, the hand slipping from his as the man on the bed shifted. Suddenly the requirements to breathe were drastically too much.

     _Dean?_ Even though Cas desperately wanted to say the words out loud his tongue became heavy, and his mind going five miles faster than his motor functions could keep up with.

 

It could have been nothing. But Cas’s heart was going too fast for that to be true. His newly freed hand lightly brushed the call button, the damn click alone echoed in the silent room. In that moment there was that green. The very green that Cas wasn’t sure he’d ever see again. Unfocused green eyes shifted to his shocked face. They weren’t clear, but they were there. They were Dean’s.

    Cas opened his mouth, but by the time he could have gotten anything out, nurses shooed him from the room. Just like that the door was shut. Cas’s eyes still wide even after the doctor went in himself.

 

...

    

He was _actually_ sitting down by the time he heard Sam’s laughter. Cas was perched on the hall chair, not turning his head to greet the younger Winchester. Something had become fascinating about his shoes as the doc ran tests on Dean. Sam still had his lawyer get up on, though his tie had been loosened as he and Jess approached.

    “Cas?” Sam’s shaky voice reached him at last.

    Castiel finally looked up. His eyes lifted but did not meet Sam's. Said man was now frozen in his place further down the hall. Charlie would have been with them if she hadn’t been on shift. Same went for the rest of truck 67.

    Jess took hold of her fiance's arm, prepared to support him in the event of bad news.

    Cas opened his mouth, only to close it and repeat the sequence several times. He just _couldn’t_ get that look out of his mind. The way Dean had stared at him, as if he was trying to find the missing piece to a puzzle. It just unsettled Cas to no end. Then again he did know why. The nurse had told him as she pushed him out the door after his second attempt to get in.

    “ _Cas_ .” Sam was begging, and nearly on his knees beside Cas’s chair. “Tell me he’s _alive_.” There were already tears in his eyes. Cas could hear it in his voice.

    All he could manage was a nod at first. “He’s awake,” came out hardly above a whisper.

    Sam bowed his head, finally hitting his knees with a breath of relief. “Jesus… You scared the hell out of us.” Jess walked away to call Rufus to let everyone on shift know the good news.

    Cas still didn’t make eye contact.

 

Sam would have been lying if he said that Cas’s behavior wasn’t nearly heart attack inducing. He didn’t get to dwell on the subject.

    “Sam?” The doctor stepped out. “He’s asking for you.”

    Quickly Sam rushed through the door. He didn’t question much until he stood at the foot of his brother’s bed.

    Dean eyed him suspiciously, sleepily sizing him up. “Bitch,” he tested.

    “Jerk,” the word flew out automatically.

    Those tired green eyes grew soft at this. All the while Sam’s heart sank. He yawned, the green no longer in sight as his eyelids drooped.

“Damn Sammy, you grew up.”


	9. Chapter 9

**_June 26, 2014_ **

 

    “Wait, wait, wait.” Sam took two behemoth strides to his brother’s bed. He pulled the chair up.

    Dean groaned. “Dad here?” 

    “Dad’s dead. Has been for years.” Sam said incredulously. 

    Dean’s eyes opened at this. “What?” 

    Sam ignored that. “I-I haven’t grown up Dean. I’ve been like this.” Desperately he looked to see if his older brother had any recognition of anything. “It’s the middle of 2014, Dean.”  

    “What?” The word repeated. 

    “You hit your head during that last call.” Sam thought out loud. “That skull fracture was the least of our problems..” 

     Dean’s fingers rubbed his temple furiously. 

     “Do you really not remember Cas?” 

     The elder Winchester mumbled something that nearly stopped the younger’s heart. Then suddenly Dean jerked forward, holding his head in his hands. The machines to his left were going berserk as he clenched his teeth in pain. Nurses rushed in with the Doc on their tails, before shoving Sam from the room. Horror set on his face as his wide eyes studied Cas. He knew now what had been troubling him. They all desperately wished for it to not be true. 

 

**_June 27, 2014_ **

 

Sam’s jacket had been draped over the chair to use as a pillow. Jess had taken over the larger lazy chair. Though said spot was empty at the moment. She was most likely out getting coffee and something in the cafeteria. Thankfully the room had been designed so family could stay, if only any of it had been large enough to accommodate Sam. Hell, Dean’s bed was almost too small. 

    Sam sat there, unable to get back to sleep. Jess had draped her own jacket over the chair, she had woken up several minutes ago. Meanwhile her husband-to-be was terrified that his best man wasn’t going to wake up again. The doctors had warned him yesterday and spent more time with testing. They weren’t able to find the degree of memory loss, or if it could all just come back today. To be on the safe side Sam had convinced Cas to go home. The man needed rest anyway. Sam was praying for the first time in years that the memories would all just come back. That there would be nothing wrong with his brother. 

    “Hope you’re not planning my funeral before I’m dead. You’re gonna have to work harder to get rid of me.” The grumble came unexpectedly in the dimly lit room. “I know you probably hate me but you should cancel the visitation. I don’t think the guests wanna shake hands with the guy their mourning.” 

    Sam bolted upright. “W-what? I don’t hate you, Dean.” 

    “Well, you’re not all dressed up because of my good looks.” Dean was looking at him now. “I know I’m the better-looking brother but-” he paused, finally taking in his surroundings. His smirk dropped. “I swear to god if Charlie burnt the house down-” 

    “What? No, Charlie hasn’t burnt the house down…” Sam trailed off taking this in. It was starting to dawn on him. The last time Sam had been pissed off at his brother (according to the degree explained by said person) was right before he went off to college. His eyes grew wide. When that happened he and Charlie split the difference on a house, right as he was becoming a fireman and Charlie had finished up her medical training. 

    Dean’s eyes were half open. “Must have been a damn close call. Shit.” He drug a hand over his face. “Well, there goes my career.” 

    “What do you mean?” Sam sat forward. 

    “Really Sam? You think their gonna let a screw up rookie back on truck?” Dean sneered. “You really need to rethink your degree, college boy.” 

    “I already graduated.” The words left Sam’s mouth before he could process them. 

    “What?” Dean was fully awake now.

    “I graduated a few weeks ago.” Not entirely a lie. Except that few weeks had actually happened nearly six years prior. During college, and when he wasn’t talking to Dean Sam had met Jessica. They both went their separate ways only to wind up in each other’s paths again. He sat back, motioning to his attire. “I was prepping a case when…”  _ When I nearly thought I’d lose you,  _ “Benny called.” Sam looked away, unable to face his brother at the mere reminder of the thoughts that ran through his head that night. 

“You really scared us, Dean.” 

    It was quiet for a while, before Jess caught both their attention. “Hey, you’re awake.” She held a tray with a wide grin. 

    Her smile was contagious, at least for Sam. 

    “Who are you?” Dean’s brows furrowed. His face twisted with all the confusion. 

    Sam’s face dropped. He was abruptly thrown back to reality. “Dean, this is Jess, my girlfriend.” He hated the lying, but he wanted to avoid what happened last night at all costs possible. The Doc had explained it as an overload of information. His brain just couldn’t handle that after the major concussion  _ and  _ skull fracture. 

    Jess hesitated for a fraction of a second. One look at Sam caused a strained smile to curl her lips. “Yes, Sam has told me so much about you.” She ducked her head innocently, setting the tray down.  

    Dean looked to his younger brother with a raised brow. “Has he?” 

_ Oh no _ . Sam nearly groaned. 

    “Definitely. From the stories I’ve heard you’re practically a superhero.” 

    Sam gave an awkward attempt at a grin when Dean’s green eyes shifted to him again. 

    Dean leaned to his brother with a mutter, “I don’t know how you managed this, but don’t let her go.” He smacked Sam upside the head for good measure. 

    “You guys hungry?” 

    The elder Winchester opened his mouth, only to swiftly close it. Sam’s worry kicked into gear. He could only hope the nurses were about here. He had managed to hit the button when Jessica came in to notify them that Dean was awake. He would have thrown a fit if he knew. Just like he’d normally be grabbing for the food, instead of his head. 

 

The doctor was the first one to enter the room. When he saw the state that his patient was in he called in several nurses. By now Dean was clutching at his head with a pain-stricken intensity. Sam and Jess were shoved out once more so they could figure out the problem without interference. Every little detail was swirling inside of Sam’s head. How much memory had been gained since the previous night, it was better. It still concluded to the same thing, though. The very thing that had Cas staring blankly at the wall. 

 

_     “Do you really not remember Cas?”  _

_    “Who?”  _

 

    “I’m talking to you, boy. Snap out of it!” Bobby growled. 

    “He doesn’t remember Cas.” The thought slipped from Sam’s grasp. 

    “What?” 

 

_     “Dad’s dead. Has been for years.”  _

_     “What?” _

 

    “He still thinks he lives with Charlie.” Sam still couldn’t look anyone in the eye. “Said that he’d ruined his career. They wouldn’t let a screw up rookie back on Truck.” 

    Bobby shook his head. “That was well over nine years ago.” 

    “Better than last night. H-he didn’t even recognize  _ me  _ at first. Told me I’ve grown up.” 

    “Balls.” 

    “Sam,” he hadn’t noticed that Jody was here too. She rubbed his arm comfortingly. Just like she did when they were younger. “This is Dean. He’ll get through this.” 

    “I tried talking to him about what he’s forgotten. Then something like this happened.” He sighed as he sat in one of the hall chairs. “How the hell are we gonna break this to Cas?” 

    “Break what to me?” Everyone’s eyes jumped over to Cas. He stood with a neutral look. Trench coat obscuring what he wore to work that day.

 

_    “Do you really not remember Cas?”  _

_    “Who?”  _

 

No one answered. 

    “Is- Is Dean-” the neutral look poured into grief. 

    “No, he’s fine.” Jody intercepted before that train of thought could continue. “Cas, there’s something you should know.” 

 

_    “Who?”  _

 

Jody led her adoptive son-in-law down the hall. Sam couldn’t hear anything either said, but he knew the moment she told him. Castiel’s shoulders dropped, he stepped back as if he’d been slapped. Then he shook his head, seeming to plead that this just wasn’t true. Jody gave a sad nod, confirming it. All their worst fears were starting to become reality, instead of just staying a nightmare. Sam had to look away. His heart had dropped into his stomach. Jess rubbed his back as he held his head in his hands. 

 

This nightmare just wouldn’t  _ end _ . This was only going to get worse before it got better. If there even was still a light at the end of the tunnel. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a tad on the short side. Didn't quite notice that until reading over it. But not to worry, next chapter should be longer! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**_July 1, 2014_ **

 

All he remembered from when he woke up was the name that came out of his mouth. It had escaped before he even knew it was there, at first sounding like a jumble of consonants and a vowel.  _ Sam _ . Or maybe it had seemed like a useless moan before he knew that it was a name. Mumbled out a few more times, and he finally realizes it. A name that belonged to a person. His baby brother who he had been supposed to look after. That was followed by the thought:  _ oh god, what happened to Sammy?  _

 

But there had been a voice hovering around him. Even when he had been out the voice was there. It definitely wasn’t Sammy, so he pushed it off. Surely it had just been in his head. 

That had been then. 

    Now Dean lay in the hospital bed, Tv on mute. Dr.Sexy would have to go without sound today. His head was pulsing like a bitch. It had started out as a minuscule thing, a mouse scurrying over that one spot continuously. That had been before the pagers went crazy for a code blue a few doors down. Now  _ every single goddamn thing  _ was reminding him of how the left side of his skull felt like it was caving in. The slightest sound was amplified. His lights have been turned off, the sunshine streaming from the outside world for once could gladly go screw itself. As long as it was  _ away  _ from him. Dean closed his eyes, aware that someone was in the room with him, but not caring at the moment. 

_ When in the fuck is that pain medication gonna kick in?  _

    “Dean Winchester,” he cracked open an eye to see Jody standing with a hand on her hip. “You just going to sit there, or you going to say hello as I call your name a hundred times?” 

    “What?” The sheriff’s words filtered through at a snail’s pace. He finally processed it when Jody opened her mouth again. 

    “You Winchesters have real charm.” She remarked. 

    “Blame Bobby,” Dean relaxed again. A distraction was a small relief. 

    He flinched at Jody’s laugh. Full of warmth and humor, but to him, it was a pain-inducing howl. Instantly the woman was nearly smothering him. “Dean?”

    Her fingers brushed over his head in a gesture that was supposed to be comforting. Though the moment her hand hit his healing skull Dean let out a small cry of pain.

   “Sorry, sorry,” Jody pulled her hand away with record speed. “Have you gotten anything for that?” 

   “Yeah,” the last thing he wanted to do was nod. Because dear God, that sucked. “Kick in anytime now.” 

    “Alright.” Jody gave a sigh, making sure the chair she brought forward didn’t make too much noise. 

    It wasn’t long after that the pain medication was in full swing. Dean’s lips curled up as Jody was going on about all the shit going down at the station. Things he’d normally snoop around for himself. She described some things that he was missing out on, and how Bobby was looking forward to some help in the garage. It may not have been permanent help, but he always did love having Dean as his helping hand. The younger man had done this before as he had finished up training and while he was in school for the extra cash. It did end up paying off in the end. Now, well, Dean had his doubts.

…

 

It was later that afternoon that Dean would be - _ really  _ be- aware of Benny and Charlie visiting. They both had hesitant looks and a few actions about them. Dean just brushed it off to having been a bad day on shift. He wouldn’t ask either way. 

    “They fire my pathetic ass yet?” Dean asked softly. The migraine from earlier was gone, but it was seeming to be just the start of something. 

    Charlie’s eyes grew huge, while Benny just took this in stride. “Actually, brother, you’re being promoted.” He paused a few beats. It wasn’t even a lie. “The department was impressed with your actions, Lieutenant.” Benny gave Dean a wide smile and a nod. It was a pretty good act for someone talking to a Captain. That part would come later. 

    Dean’s face had been lacking color lately, but that sparkle in those green eyes was worth the tiny fib. 

    Charlie still seemed reluctant to this. Though, the moment Benny elbowed her she plastered a fake grin on her lips. “Dude, like full on Harry Potter.” It had been something quick to say, but Charlie managed to save herself as per usual. “From sleeping under the stairwell to full-blown boy wizard.” 

    Dean threw his head back onto his mound of pillows. He bellowed deeply. This caused both his friends to relax and allow an actual grin to form. “Really, Charlie? You go full out Harry Potter on me?” 

    “My second choice was Bilbo Baggins. You may be big but that won’t stop me from calling you a hobbit. Have you seen your feet?” 

    Dean’s face had gained a red color as he chuckled again. “So does that make you Gandolf?” 

    “Damn straight.” She didn’t miss a beat. Somehow seeing that he at least had some part of  _ him _ still there, was enough. Enough to wash some of the worry and fear away. But not so much for him to know who Cas was. “Beorn and I have journeyed a long way, Mr.Baggins.” 

    “How about you put that journey to good use. Use some of that mojo of yours to see if I can sneak out of here for the grill out.” 

    “We’ll talk to the doc about that champ.” Benny still had a soft curl to the edge of his lip. “Rufus would love to have you there, but no point if Jo and Charlie have to haul your ass back here ‘cause you passed out on us.” 

    “Alright, mom.” Benny knew his point had gotten into Dean. The man was stubborn, yes, but Dean Winchester was far from stupid. 

    The two visitors took the hint that Dean was worn out when his eyes started to droop. 

    “Well talk to the doc and Rufus about the grill out for you,” Charlie reassured softly. “But right now get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

 

They said their goodbyes. Dean blinked, and the seats his friends had been taking up were suddenly empty. His eyelids and limbs felt heavy. He’d shrug this off, and just let sleep take over.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Call me a big ol' sap or whatever but...
> 
> I'd like to thank all of you for the kudos and comments. I happen to fall into creative blocks often, but watching the views keep climbing and getting notifications about comments and kudos helps push me along.  
> I first started this story saying "why the hell not?" and "Fuck my life I'm actually going to write this." 
> 
> I am constantly amazed by all of you and just how quickly it has taken off. I mean, within the first three days Catch a Flame had nearly caught up and surpassed my book We are Us. WaU had previously been my highest viewed/read book here on ao3. Since then CaF has left it in the DUST! 
> 
> We're nearly at 1k hits and I'm freaking speechless about how the hell this has happened. In a matter of months Catch a Flame has accomplished what had taken some of my other fics on different sites YEARS to get to, and a handful of dedicated readers. 
> 
> I'm in awe of you guys. I'm just the writer, it's all ya'll who made this possible.  
> As cheesy as it sounds I'm forever grateful <3
> 
> as always I hope you enjoy (an extra long chapter)!

**_July 2, 2014_ **

 

Dean took a shaky step. Sam’s hand lingered on his shoulder as he repeated that very action. In his head, he was cursing his defiant muscles. 

    “You still wanting to go to the grill out Friday?” Dean knew Sam knew the answer. He also knew Sam knew that he knew this. Small talk wasn’t always such a bitch. 

    “Benny got it cleared with the Doc and Rufus.” Dean still held tightly to the railing, but after moving his left foot once more, he looked to Sam. “It’s not like I’m gonna be totally helpless. If anything were to even happen there are several paramedics there to help me out.” Then he added the afterthought, “a few of them might tan my hide after. Not like I need an entire hospital to accompany me.” 

    Sam made a face that spelled he had a retort. 

    “Can it, Sammy.” Dean feigned a grudge as he moved forward. 

    Sam let out a chesty rumble, patting Dean’s shoulder. 

    The elder of the two playfully shoved his brother. 

    Sam’s eyes lit with mirth. Without thought, Sam’s curled fist rose to strike back. In a jesting manner, he thumped Dean’s arm. 

    Whatever tidbit of joy was there, soon was drained away along with some of the color of Dean’s face. His hold on the railing tightened. He hung his head. 

    “Oh shit, Dean. I didn’t-” Sam knew full well to shut the hell up by the look his older brother was giving him. Though, it didn’t take long for some version of a pain stuffed smile to slip into that green. All was forgiven. Right now at least. 

    “Wheelchair,” Dean panted out after a while. 

     That single word caused Sam’s eyes to grow wide. He was about to go grab the chair he had brought his brother in when Dean spoke again. 

    “Doc wants me to take the wheelchair. For the grill out.” The last part seemed like an afterthought. 

    Sam let out a breath. “Well, you did just wake up last week.” 

    Dean gave him a  _ shut-your-damn-mouth  _ glare, before rolling his eyes. 

    “You just came out of a coma, Dean.” Suddenly Sam’s chest tightened. “You need to take it easy, especially with those migraines you’ve been having.”

    Dean groaned. Of course Jody ratted him out. 

    “I’m serious, Dean. I am not going to lose you,”  _ again _ , “after just getting you back.” 

    “Alright, alright. I get it, Samantha.” Dean let his eyes roam around the room. There were some other people going about their business. Those who were able to attend a physical therapy session outside of their rooms. 

    But when his gaze fixed with those blue eyes, he was caught. Something that was so calming that it couldn’t be real. The man standing there was nearly transparent. Dean’s hand gripped the railing, turning white. His next steps were shuffled. The movements almost as if he’d do anything to get to this outline of a person. To get to those blue eyes. The oceans that showed the very soul. Eyes that were so poetic it was unfair to whoever was the poor sap that was caught within their attention. Currently, that poor sap was the eldest Winchester. 

    He blinked, and the blue was gone. A ghost from his own mind. 

    “Dean? What is it?” Sam followed his older brother’s line of sight to find just as much vacancy in the room's doorway. 

    “Hot nurses,” the awe was still in his tone. A fascination from the cruelty of his own mind haunting him. Cobwebs still strung up high and thick in the corners of his brain. But those blue eyes, they almost seemed like his answer. His saving grace. Maybe even the guardian angel perched on his shoulder. 

 

**_July 4, 2014_ **

 

Dean had most definitely  _ not  _ thought of blue eyes for the remaining day and a half of his hospital stay. Just like he had gotten up yesterday and line danced. 

    His plans to walk as much as he possibly could before the grill out were squashed. Dean’s skull was bothering him again. Enough to keep his ass in bed. At least Doc was taking pity on him and letting him go. Charlie had everything -as far as he knew- placed where it was supposed to be. She said it should be just how he left it. Asides from the few ramps that Dean had overheard Sam and Bobby talking about. Apparently, everyone was expecting him to  _ stay  _ in a wheelchair like the kind doctor wanted. His family made him laugh sometimes. On occasion, they could be any Friday-night stand-up comedian. Because the very notion of that was downright damn hilarious. 

    Dean Winchester in a wheelchair? He’d dress up as Bozo the clown before that happened -maybe that wasn’t too bad an idea. Get back at Sam for a few things. In either case, hell was more likely to freeze over. 

    Bobby had also been a saint by giving him a cane. They’d have a wheelchair handy for the grill out, just in case; but at least he’d get to stand on his own two feet. 

 

There was at least one good thing about hospitals. 

    Dean grudgingly didn’t fight the whole being pushed out of the joint by his brother. But the nurses. Oooooooh, boy, the nurses were sweet. A couple batted their lashes at the ‘heroic’ firefighter. Unashamedly he’d been eying a few dudes too. 

    Though, that’s where the blue eyes come back into play. Yes, Dean Winchester wasn’t about to leave this godforsaken hospital without causing a few of his admirers to nearly drop dead with just a wink. But the entire time he’d look at any one of them he was looking for that blue. When it couldn’t be found he convinced himself it had only been a dream. That it had always been just a dream. 

    Only one thing left on the planet had cheered him up so quickly that next moment. The very  _ purr  _ had a smile set on his face. Even with Sam’s objections, Dean was on his feet, using the cane without a care as she shined before him. 

    Sam was most likely telling his brother to sit down -not like the eldest Winchester was  _ actually listening _ \- when he was interrupted. “Shhhh. Can you hear that?” 

    “Hear what?” 

    “You can’t because you’re talking.” Dean deadpanned. His attention switched on a dime as he whistled. “ _ Hello,  _ gorgeous!” Normally he called her beautiful, but the occasion called for it. “Just listen to you purr!” His movements were much smoother since he used the cane. A small little fact Dean would tuck away for later. Right now he had bigger matters.

“I missed you, baby,” he ran a hand along her shining exterior. The Impala gleamed in the sunlight, engine already rumbling. 

    Her passenger door opened with a too familiar squeak it was practically cliche. The thought of mice ran through Dean’s head before he quickly buried it. He plopped down on the bench seat and closed the door. 

    “C’mon Sammy, day ain’t gettin’ any younger.” 

    Sam rolled his eyes and contained the grin that he kept hidden. He walked around the back of the car just so he could let it show. A moment to himself. “Impatient,” he managed to mutter out instead. 

    Dean had a reply waiting for when he got inside. “Grill out started hours ago. I’m sure we’re keeping everyone on the edge of their seats waiting for the guest of honor to arrive.” 

_ More like horror.  _

The retort injected itself into the air, didn’t even need to be voiced. 

    “ _ Ow! _ ” Dean smirked at Sam’s only vocal answer. The slight sting in his fingers was so worth this.  

    “I fell down two stories. To the rookies, I’m a  _ god _ .” 

    Sam glanced at his brother with that cheeky grin. He rolled his eyes as he pulled out, keeping any and all comments to himself. Most importantly, hiding his smile.

…

 

The grill out was in full swing by the time the Impala rolled up. Families scattered around, some sitting at the picnic tables, some even set up on blankets. Several firefighters manned the grills while others participated or refed for games. Dean stepped out of the Impala with a large grin upon his face. It sagged a little at how this just seemed  _ different _ . He’d been out for months, of course things have changed. Though it didn’t soften any blows when he took into account all those who were missing. People he knew deep down that he wouldn’t see again. Trucks were lined up in the streets along the park, even a few ambos. It was always intended to let little kids climb up and maybe even don some gear. Unmistakably they sat waiting in the event of a call. Truck 67 sat in the line up in all her glory. The boys of Dean’s house did good on shining her up.

    The driver’s door closing brought Dean out of his thoughts. Closing his own door he glanced over his baby’s roof at his little brother. Even though he’d be off duty for an amount of time he didn’t quite care to admit, Dean still had his Fire Department shirt on. He had to hound Sam to bring it in. 

    The brothers made their way over to the bustling crowd, finding a place that had been saved just for them. 

    “You should have invited Jess,” Dean spoke as he sat down. His stubborn muscles were burning from disuse. Sam opened his mouth for a lame argument but was graciously saved by his older brother. “I’m not a baby, pretty sure I can take care of myself.” Sam still looked reluctant. “Samuel I’m a firefighter for Christ’s sake. Nearly everyone from the same house is here. There's plenty of paramedics. Now go pester someone else.” 

    Dean was given the classic bitch-face. “It’s Sam, jerk.” 

    “Whatever bitch.” 

    Sam jokingly punched Dean’s shoulder as he stood. Thankfully getting out of his hair. As if the very thought has summoned her, Jess happened to be walking over to the Sasquatch. 

 

Now finally he’d get a moment alone- scratch that, a plate was dropped in front of him. The one thing that kept him from letting out his groan of frustration was the burger surrounded by a sea of chips. And don’t forget the pie. It was topped with slightly melted whipped cream, but damn it was  _ pie _ . This was practically the cherry on the cake. So much he nearly let the kiss on his head slide. Though his hand still batted the air. 

    “ _ Jody _ .” 

    “Would you have rather had Bobby bring this over?” She motioned to Heaven-on-a-plate. 

    If Bobby had brought it over he would have been spared a little humility. Then again the old grump probably wouldn’t have bought pie. He’d have gone for the essentials. 

_ “The boy still has use of his legs. He can get his own damn pie _ . _ ” _ Dean could practically hear the rumble in his head. Why was this even a debate?

    Dean’s shoulders slumped. “Thank you.” 

    Jody hummed before giving him a peck on the forehead. She sat next to him with her back against the edge of the table. 

    “Was that necessary?” Dean rubbed the spot. 

    “Always,” she smiled. 

    Dean rolled his eyes as he picked up his burger. There was a curl to the edge of his lips. He elbowed Jody before taking a bite. His hums of approval led to her smacking his back. 

    “You spoil me,” he offered that cheeky grin after he swallowed. That very smile dropped when he noticed a small group that worked on truck 33 were making their way over to him. 

     At the very front of the pack was Captain Abbadon. She was ruthless, but always got her job done. Her red hair was always spiraled up into a never-less-than-perfect bun. Dean’s always swore the woman had military background. Drill sergeant sure did fit this lady. 

    Jody’s smile dropped. Her line of sight roving to meet where Dean’s lead. 

    “We call them Hell’s court,” Dean muttered as the group strode over. 

     Directly behind her were the king of hell and the Devil himself. It was an enigma how Nick and Fergus were ever able to get a single thing done around each other. Alpha male rolled off the two in waves. Probably why neither has been promoted in so long. Then came the newest girl, who Dean didn’t quite know. If she was rolling with 33’s group then she spelled trouble. Girl’s bound to practically be a demon. Lastly, there was Cain. Normally there would be another person sticking close to him. If they were together then Cain didn’t roam around with 33 as closely as he did here. Thoughts of this caused Dean to set down his burger. Benny and Bobby had to break the losses to him. 

     Jody rubbed Dean’s back comfortingly. A silent statement before she got up and walked off to see what her husband was up to. 

    “Winchester,” at Abbadon’s call, Dean raised his head once again. “Good to see you out and about. That was one hell of a hit you took. Like father like son, I guess.” She smiled. She was being nice, but Dean couldn’t help but feel like a mouse being batted around. 

    What the hell is that supposed to mean? His brows furrowed. Just  _ thinking  _ of trying to untangle this to find it’s meaning was starting to make his head hurt. There had to be a reason. But he didn’t get one when Abbadon actually patted his back and walked off. The rest of her court still gathered at the end of the table. Lucifer gave a thumbs up before retreating to do whatever. 

    The girl hesitated. “Thank you,” she spoke before skittering off. 

     “I had faith you’d pull through.” Crowley’s accented voice broke through Dean’s thought clouded mind. “It seemed like I was the only one for a while there that didn’t underestimate you.” He huffed a short bark of a laugh. He muttered “Winchesters” as he walked away. 

 

This left Cain standing on his own. His salt and pepper beard was longer than Dean remembered. Hell, last time he  _ remembered _ , Cain wasn’t going grey. He wasn’t alone either. That fact just kept painfully resurfacing. It always hit Dean hard since Cain wasn’t Cain without his brother. It had been that way for himself before Sammy ran off to college and left him with Dad. Maybe it could be like that for him again.

    His green eyes took in all the people laughing and enjoying their time before the sun goes down. He found Sam sitting on one of the numerous blankets scattered over the grass. A huge goofy grin spread across his face. All starry-eyed for Jess who sat next to him. Thank God he found her and was out of Dean’s hair. But really, thank God he had her. 

    Dean looked back up to Cain.

    “You really gave a lot ‘a people quite the scare, Winchester.” 

    “So I keep hearin’,” 

    “You’re one lucky man, Dean.”  _ But was he?  _ “I’ve worked at firehouses in a couple other places. I haven’t seen very many men come back from what you have. Even less return to the job after.” 

    “Family business,” Dean shrugged. The words were automatic as Bobby’s voice echoed in his head. 

_     “We both went down. Only difference, Abel didn’t get back up. Kid just… hit his head too hard.”  _

    Cain shook his head. “You got quite the guardian angel.” 

    “Guess I do,” blue eyes danced around in the back of his mind.

_ “Angels are watching over you.”  _ He could see her smile as if she’d gifted him one yesterday. 

    The older man patted the wood of the table in departure. 

    “Hey, Cain.” Dean looked up as he turned around. “I’m sorry about Abel.” 

    The little brother who’d follow his brother's footsteps, even if that lead into a burning building nearly every time the alarms went off. Dean took this moment to silently thank whatever greater power there was that Sam didn’t follow his. No, just leave Dean to be the stupid one to follow after Dad. He saw how pointless his disappointment and anger was when Sam said he had no interest in firefighting. It really had been a blessing. 

    Cain gave a silent nod. The slightest curl to the end of his lip in thanks. Like Dean Winchester was the only person in the world who really meant what he said. And he had. 

    Without realizing it Dean’s gaze had found Sam again.

     Cain had followed his line of sight. “Law seems to be a better alternative.” 

    “Beats tryin’ to be the moron running into the fire while everyone else is running out.” 

    “I guess so.” Cain’s eye moved back to Dean. “Take care, Dean.” With that Cain went to sit with his wife. 

 

Dean watched Sammy. A voice from the past coming to mind with the hidden meaning under Cain’s words. 

_ Take care of yourself, and your brother. _

 

_ “Look out for Sammy.”  _

 

Dean’s lips turned up at the edges. He had, and he always will.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another reminder that updates are every Wednesday around 7 a.m. (American) Central time.  
> I'd like to keep it every Wednesday, and the only reason it would change is if I get behind writing. Then it'll go to every other. 
> 
> I am also happy to say, that since I've been cross-posting this on FanFiction.Net, Catch a Flame has hit 1k views over there. (Don't tell them, but they are one chapter behind all ya'll - you get the juicy stuffs sooner) ;)  
> I know it seems as if I'm making a big deal out of it, but I think its necessary.  
> Yes, I've had other stories hit this milestone before. Hell, The Queen hit 1k a week before this did on wattpad (and I'm planning on starting to post this on there over the summer fyi). 
> 
> But the biggest difference would have to be: those stories have already ended. Sure it hasn't quite been a year yet since I posted the last chapter of TQ, but I still am done updating it. We're probably not even halfway through Catch a Flame yet and we've hit it! So thank you all again ;) 
> 
> Thank ya'll for being awesome, hope you enjoy!

**_July 4, 2014_ **

 

Dean had been halfway through his meal when the rest of the guys -and ladies- showed up. More specifically pulled him from his thoughts over his talk with Cain. 

    “Hey,” Garth bumped his shoulder with his fist. “How you holding up Winchester?” He had this goofy lopsided grin that he always seemed to wear. Some days Dean just couldn’t believe how this guy chose to be a firefighter. His slinky form sat down across from him. 

    “Give me another week and I can kick your ass for nearly making me drop my pie.” 

    Garth’s eyes widened comically. The silence lasted for mere seconds before the rest of the group burst into laughter. 

    “Oh c’mon, I’m sure you could take him now.” Cole nudged Garth as he sat down too. 

    “And I’m sure the same goes for you,” Jo spoke up, eyeing Cole while she set her plate down. 

    “Well-” Cole attempted. 

    “Girl’s got a point.” Dean popped a chip into his mouth. 

    This earned him a smile, “thank you.” 

    Cole frowned at being the new verbal chew toy. 

    “Oh lighten up, Cole. You just pick on Garth a little too often.” Benny plopped down beside Dean. “He was with Truck before you, and the hazing-” 

    “Is saved for those who show up last.” The group recited.

    “If I remember correctly Cole, you’ve been with good ol’ truck 67, what? Eight years?” Charlie munched on some of Dean’s chips in contemplation. 

    “Yeah, definitely deserve it more than Garth.” Ash joined in from the other side of Benny. It was a good thing that there were several tables lined up together, or no one else would be able to get on. Ash was a skinny dude. Certainly not Garth kind of skinny, but sat next to guys like Dean and Benny, there was no space for anyone else on just one. Meanwhile it took Garth, Cole, and the two paramedics to take up the other side. A lanky kid with golden brown hair sat next to Charlie. He seemed to pull into himself a little when he met Dean’s eye. Though, there was a shine of something like hope in his eye. Almost as if he was waiting for something, something that most likely wouldn’t come. 

    Benny followed Dean’s line of sight, tensing only slightly when he found out what his friend was looking at. “Oh, Dean, this is Alfie. He’s the new recruit. Started a couple months back. Just before that fire that took you out.” 

    Alfie gave a half smile as he somehow managed pulled into himself more. 

    Charlie rubbed the kid’s arm comfortingly. He was nodding to whatever she whispered to him. 

    “Kid’s had a couple tough fires. Saw someone go out.” 

    Dean hummed in response. That person could have been anyone, but what came to his mind was a civilian. That first time is the hardest. Not like it gets any better, but it’s a hard fall from thinking you’re on top of the world to watching someone nearly die in a situation you have no control over. 

    Before Dean was able to say anymore, another familiar face walked over. 

    “Winchester,” Rufus’s gruff voice sounded. 

    “Chief,” Dean greeted. 

    “You know, my firehouse is a lot quieter without you there. I’m starting to not like it.” 

    “Well yeah, if my best looking guy was on leave I think I’d start to miss ‘im too.” 

    “And there we go everyone,” Cole muttered. “Dean Winchester and his ‘I’m too pretty’ line.” 

    “That,” the man in question held his plate out of Charlie's reach. This was only so Rufus could grab a chip before going to grab his own grub and returning. At least no one was touching the pie. “And, I’m also pretty sure I’m adorable.”  

    “Irresistible.” Benny teased. 

    “Well thanks, honey. What time did you say you’d be home tomorrow? I need to know so I can get your supper ready.” Dean busted balls right back. 

    “Around 7:30, darlin’. That’s if we don’t get a call last minute.” 

    “ _ Guys _ .” 

    Mission accomplished, Cole was now squirming uncomfortably. Dean and Benny roared with chuckles. Dean picking up some pie when he calmed down. His eyes scanned the area to take into account the activities that were winding down now that most everyone was eating. Jo sat back down, having balanced three plates. Alfie had the same number, having followed her. Dean hardly paid attention to Cole groaning how no one got any for him. A miniscule squabble ensued between he and Jo, Charlie ganging up with her.

 

That was when he saw him. Blue eyes looking right past him. Their eyes met for mere seconds. Dean swallowed hard. He’d never seen this man before. Same could be said for the much shorter man next to him with long brown hair. 

    The way they interacted reminded Dean of himself and Sammy. Speaking of good ol’ Sam, he was still having the time of his life eating and grinning at lil’ miss Jess. 

    Dean looked back to Blue eyes. He suddenly felt that the other day at the hospital was most definitely  _ not  _ his seeing things due to his pain med. If it was then this was one hell of a trip he was having. This was some damn good shit too if it was. Even more reason to keep it away from Ash. 

    Far from beside the point. Back on track, Dean could see the intensity of the blues from where he sat. A tip-off that he was not having the best hallucination of his life. His gut churned with butterflies.  _ So  _ acting like a freaking teenage girl with a crush. 

    “Right Dean?” 

    He was pulled from his thoughts by Charlie. “What?” 

    “I was explaining to Missouri that you’re planning on being back to work here soon.” Her eyes widened in a _‘get out of la la land’_ message. 

    His mind didn’t connect the dots for a few seconds as he smiled at Ms.Moseley. “Yeah, yeah.”

    “Well that’s good to hear,” the woman smiled kindly down at him. 

    Rufus snorted. Bobby did the same from across from him. He and Jody suddenly appeared next to Alfie, Dean not having noticed when they sat down. “Better not be too quick. I may ‘ave said I missed your bitching, but I still want a quiet house for a little longer.” 

    “I feel the love just  _ radiating _ from you, Rufus.” The grin he’s suppressing laced in his tone. “It’s poisonous and choking me.” 

   The entire table save for the chief let out whoops and hollers. 

   Dean took this moment to look back for blue eyes, only to find him gone again. 

 

_ You got quite the guardian angel. _

 

_ Angels are watching over you.  _

 

That feeling from deep in his gut was back. Even though the rest of the night was one of the best Dean has had in a while -out of what he can remember- he thinks of those blue eyes. When the sky darkened and the show started, he turned around on the bench. Sam and Jess had moved their blanket to be closer to Dean. Fireflies flashed in the air along with the fireworks. A blue circle splashed over the star-lit sky. Again he pictured those ocean eyes.

    Something nagged at the back of his mind, that he was supposed to know something. That there should be someone next to him. But he just couldn’t shake those damn blue eyes. Not even when Rufus’s radio crackled with a call. Not everyone was the smartest on July 4th. Benny patted Dean’s good shoulder, the others waving as they jogged up to engine 67. With Benny up front turning on the lights, before sirens as he pulled the rig out of the line up with the other trucks. His head was starting to hurt a little with the fact that he was just  _ missing  _ something. For some reason, three words filled his mind as truck 67 pulled from sight, and the fireworks continued to help the stars light up the sky. A promise that seemed that it originated from an eternity ago. Or a whole ‘nother world in general. 

 

_ See you tomorrow.  _


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been getting quite a few questions about Cas lately. Well here you may find those answers! 
> 
> \- please note that when ya'll (might) hate me later, you guys were the ones to ask for this. I'm only giving you what you want people! 
> 
> As always I hope you enjoy!

**_July 6, 2014_ **

 

His own thoughts would be the end of him. Rising water inside his mind that trapped him with the rushing of currents back and forth. Swirling round, round, round. This, this would be the end of him. His own thought, own feelings would drown him. Drag him down to the deepest darkest depth of his very being so he could just wallow.

    That would be if Sam Winchester would just leave him to it. That’s just not the way that a Winchester worked. Then again not even Gabriel left him alone for more than three minutes.

    So that is how Castiel found himself at his brother’s coffee shop. A still-steaming cup o’ joe accompanied by a small plate that held up a corner of coffee cake roofed with a layer of brown sugar. He sat at his normal table out of old habits. From a time that wasn’t too long ago when his husband would be fidgeting in the chair across from him on Sunday mornings much like this one.

    Instead, his older brother was pestering him within near perfect four-minute intervals. Cas mostly ignored this, and in some spots of the book he held, didn’t even register the real world. Koda Singer’s universe seemed to be proving to be a nice one to escape to. Even though most of the books turning point don’t tend to be in the main characters’ favors. His eyes paused on one word as the chair across from him scraped the floor. Creak of the boards as someone shifted weight as they sat. His breath caught in his throat as his line of thought overlapped the words on the page in front of him.

 

 _Dean_ was closely followed half down the curled page by _fire_.

 

Castiel’s head jerked up, and for a moment he saw it. One cruel, burning moment, he saw Dean. Just like he had at the grill out not two days before. Those green eyes looking at him with a watchful glance. So for that second Castiel could believe it had all been a very bad dream. For a second, his life was together again.

    But the real nightmare happened to be his everyday life. The splash of freckles disappeared. Green morphed to hazle and the short hair grew to just past chin length. Dean was not in front of him, only the closest person Castiel would get right now.

    “How you doing Cas?”

    “Sam,” Cas let out a small huff of disappointment. The younger Winchester’s shirt was unbuttoned, his tie loose. Castiel made a pointed effort to seem interested in whatever was underneath his nail beds. There was some dirt here and there, no sign of paint.

   “ _Castiel_.” Sam let out a near lawyery growl. “How are you doing?”

   Cas set his book down, looking at the front cover with a few character’s faces. “How do you think? The house is quiet. I still catch myself waiting for him.” Cas took a moment before pushing the powder submerged cake toward Sam. Maybe he wasn’t exactly drowning alone, but an inanimate item wasn’t best company. “It’s almost as if I’ve been thrown back in time to before I met him. Just… different.”

He shakes his head. “I’m in a house that had just been the right size seven months ago. Now it just seems, _empty_.”

    “Like all the life has been sucked out of it?” Jess -who Castiel frankly hadn’t noticed- offered.

    He gave a solemn nod.

    “We know the feeling.” Even though Cas couldn’t see, he could tell in that moment the couple clasped their hands together. Sam offering his strength and Jess doing the same. Two pillars supporting each other.

    Cas cast his eyes to the book title. “How is he?”

    “Stubborn as always.” When the statement only caused a small knowing smile, Sam’s tone changed. “Doc’s still concerned about his head. Leg’s still bothering him, and his headaches are touch and go most the time. Not like anything’s ever really stopped him.”

    Listening to his brother-in-law’s voice, Castiel’s fingers curled around Dean’s necklace. His husband’s ring shifting around his finger, his own keeping the amulet company around his neck.

    “We pushed back the date, hopefully we can break the engagement to him in a couple months.”

    Now that was new. “You’ve moved the wedding?” Castiel looked up at the two.

    “Of course we did,” Jess offered a smile. “Dean’s family, if he can’t take too much of all this in at a time then we’ll hold back what we can. Can’t have a wedding without the best man.” They looked at each other with an ounce of joy. “I learned that from the Winchester family.”

    Cas just honestly needed a distraction at the moment as he continued. “What of the guests, your parents?”

    “My parents understand, but if anyone is too upset about it then they can gladly uninvite themselves.”

 

Castiel remembered meeting Jessica for the first time. How shy she seemed around Sam’s family. Just how her skin would crawl at a few Winchester customs. She hasn’t been that girl for a long, long time. Cas knew how well she could fit into this hurricane of a family. They were crazy, but he knew first hand that it was one hell of a ride. He felt fingers wrap around his own. Jess giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

    “We got this,” her lips curled. “We just all need a little time to heal first.” Jess has stood and thrown her arms around Castiel. “I’m willing to bet that this will only make us stronger.” She set a hand under Cas’s chin so he’d look at her. “You’ll get him back,” she whispered. Jessica set a soft kiss to Castiel’s forehead. She kissed her husband-to-be on her way out. Cas couldn’t help letting the edges of his own lips turn up. Sam had found one hell of a woman.

     “I’m very happy for you Sam, to have a woman such as her.”

     “And I’m happy that you have my brother, and he has someone like you.”

     Cas shook his head.

     “Stop it Cas. Amnesia or not you are still my brother. Sure we have shit that we need to sort out right now. But once that's passed we can deal with what comes next. I don’t think this is the end.”

    Now that was a flat-out lie, and Cas knew it.

    “You two can get back-”

    “Sam, stop.” Cas breathed.

    “It can go back to how it was, Doc said so.”

    “Sam.”

    “We can do this Cas. Tell him who you are.”

    “Sam _please_.”

    “You can go over an' reintroduce you, and-”

    “And do what?” Castiel’s knuckles hit the table in his frustration. “What would you rather me do, Sam? Walk up and introduce myself? What am I supposed to say then? Hello, you may not remember me but we’ve been married for the last six years?” Cas drug his hands over his face.

    Sam’s eyes were now inspecting the patterns of the tablecloth.

    Castiel finally had the opening he needed. “I’m terrified, Sam. I’m terrified to be around my own husband. That - that I’ll do something that will trigger a memory and he gets overwhelmed like he had in the hospital.”

    Sam had finally looked up. He was prepared to give a half-assed reassurance that was far from the truth when Cas continued.

    “Don’t you dare tell me that won’t happen. I know his migraines are still bad. I know that if he’s flooded then he’ll shut down. Honestly? I think he’s better off like this.” Castiel’s voice betrayed him, hinting to the tears that he’s been keeping back so well up to this point.

    “What?” Sam’s eyes widened as his voice dropped. “Cas, that can’t be true.”

    “It is. It's not like this is the first time.” Cas wiped at a blurry eye. “I haven’t seen him laugh like that in so long. Like he had at the grill out. The last time I’d seen it was before your father’s death. Not that he’s never smiling, but it always seems like there's that one little piece missing.”

He paused, “a piece that broke off when you left, and completely shattered when he lost John.”

    Sam sat there completely silent. He never imagined the conversation taking this turn.

 

    “You don’t understand how badly he was beat up after you left. He had a spot on truck 67 waiting for him. He was happy, hell, he was proud that you were going to college. I worked here serving coffee or a last-minute substitute manager. He’d tell anyone who’d listen, Sam.”

 

~~

_Then…_

 

Castiel wiped up the counter, glancing out over the cafe in front of him. Gabriel had him watching over the place as he and Kali had their fun. There was this one man who came in near-daily before his shifts wherever he worked. If Cas had a guess, he was a first responder of some kind. He knew Charlie was, and most of the friends she talked about were first responders. From his post behind the counter, Castiel could catch several times when the green-eyed man would speak of his ‘kid brother.’ Whoever greeted this man would stay and listen to how his brother was, and that he was going to college. Kid was smart, had scholarships waiting. Hopefully, he’d go to follow the family business. Cas saw countless faces of locals or people just passing through town on a day to day basis. Though this one customer always had caught his eye. He’d also seen him move his attention anywhere else whenever Cas looked over. Working for his older brother ensured he had a constant paycheck that could go towards his own education in the fall.

    It would be the next week that Gabriel would shoo Castiel from behind the counter and go do whatever. Doing whatever entailed a coffee, chair, and a book. Currently, Cas was in the middle of the first of the _Us_ series. There were five in total and the last was still in the works. Gabriel had also told Cas that if he didn’t go home after this ‘break’ he’d fire him. Not like the older Novak would do such a thing, but the idea of a day off was really starting to sound good. The page he was currently on had his eyes glued to the paper. Cas automatically lifting the mug to his lips to sip on the last few drops. By the time he got to the end of the chapter the mug had been abandoned on the table. He had to force himself to close the book and set it down.

    

Taking hold of the mug he made to go take it to the counter. That happened to be interrupted by a broad chest. One that Cas ran right into.

    “Sorry!” He squeaked, holding onto the ceramic cup a little tighter for lack of what to do with his hands. At least he wasn’t messing with the sleeves of his sweater.

    “No, no. My fault, I wasn’t paying attention.” The man before him rumbled. Cas looked up to have blue eyes meet green. He knew this man was a frequent customer. His father or Charlie would accompany him most of the time.

    “That makes two of us.”

    “Huh?”

    “You’re alright, I’m alright. We’re both good.” Cas picked up his book without glancing away from the taller man. “Have a good day.” With that Cas went around and got the hell out of dodge. Hopefully Gabriel didn’t notice how red his face had been.

    He would hardly get around the corner of the cafe along the sidewalk. During his retreat he’d heard muffled stumbling and quiet ‘I’m sorry’s. Now,  the footsteps sound slightly rushed and uncoordinated. Almost as if this wasn’t part of the plan.

    It hadn’t been.

    Cas turned at the same time the man who bumped into him had stopped.

    “Damn it must have hurt.” He paused, trying to downplay the shock of having gained Castiel’s attention. That was done by rambling. “I think I’d know a thing or two about pain, I work for the fire department.”

    “What hurt?” This whole situation, as entertaining as it was, was also confusing. Castiel patted his sides to test for damage.

    “When you fell,” he cleared his throat as Cas shot him another confused look. “From Heaven, I mean.”

    The mother of all terrible pickup lines. But Castiel couldn’t help but like this man more for it.

    He turned around, holding out his hand. Why the hell not? “Castiel Novak.”

    Green eyes hesitated for a second, deciding if the moment was actually happening. Then he jumped on the opportunity. “Dean Winchester.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this conversation may even continue into next chapter ;)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, accidentally did the whole 'you might hate me by the end of the chapter' thing again... 
> 
> It'll be worth it I promise. Next chapter, oh, it'll be beautiful :3
> 
> Happy singles awareness day everyone! As always I hope you enjoy :)

**_July 6, 2014_ **

 

__ “You don’t understand how badly he was beat up after you left. He had a spot on truck 67 waiting for him. He was happy, hell, he was proud that you were going to college. I worked here serving coffee or a last-minute substitute manager. He’d tell anyone who’d listen, Sam.” 

Cas was far from finished. It wasn’t hard to tell. “He and your father worked hard to make any extra money to send to you. They were  _ both _ proud.” 

    Sam scoffed before he even realized it. The very thought was absurd. 

    Cas narrowed his eyes. “Stop. Stop that right now. You need to let me finish.” 

    Sam gave Cas the go-ahead, still trying to take in the fact Cas snapped. 

    “Yes, I cannot agree more that John Winchester could be a mean man. He was ill-tempered, impatient, virtually the definition of a hard ass. But one thing he was not, was a bad father.” Castiel looked the younger Winchester in the eye. An open challenge to argue. “The night of the fire that killed your mother he placed you in Dean’s arms and told him to get out of the house. That wasn’t just for your safety, Sam. John knew Dean could do it, and that would mean both his children would be outside.  _ Safe _ .” 

    “Dean carried me out?” 

    Cas nodded. “You told them you were going into pre-law. Yes, John was pissed. Dean? He got over it. He took comfort in the thought that you wouldn’t be too horribly far. That you’d go to Kansas State or even the University around here.” 

    Sam’s shoulders slumped. “But then I didn’t.” 

    Another nod. 

    “What - why -  _ how  _ didn’t I know?” 

    “He told me to never speak of most of this. A few things he didn’t have to.” Cas shifted in his chair. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him in a state like this. Sam, I’ve known Dean much longer than you think. Besides the fact that he’s my  _ husband _ , I’ve seen his best and worst days.” 

    Sam took it in. “You were there when I wasn’t.” 

    “Yes. I was the one he’d talk to when you wouldn’t.” 

    “What’s causing you to tell me this now?” 

    “The fact you deserve to know.” Cas moved his coffee aside. “The fact your brother held onto this for too long. And maybe, just maybe, I can convince you why this is  _ so  _ much better for him.” 

    “Why is it?” 

    “Because he’ll no longer have those nightmares.” 

    “And he won’t have you, won’t remember you.” 

    “He won’t be in  _ pain _ .” Cas sighed. “I’m his husband, yes. What I am supposed to do is make him feel better. Not worse. May I continue now?” 

    Sam wanted to argue further. The only thing that kept him from doing so was the knowledge that he wouldn’t get far. 

    “You moved far enough away that it was impossible for him to find time to go to California. He still had training, exams, workouts. That was beside the fact that you stopped talking to your father, and your brother right along with.” Castiel couldn’t help the angry undertone. Besides it all, Sam felt he deserved it. “Dean may have never visited, but John would leave for a few days every couple months. Never told Dean where he went, but I’m willing to bet it was never a liquor store unless it was in California.” 

    Sam squeezed his eyes closed, running his hands through his hair.  _ God, I’m was an idiot _ . “And then the night of the fire.” 

    “He showed up on my doorstep that night. And every one after. That fire nearly took everything out of him and he wasn’t even a firefighter yet. He lost his father and Able. Very nearly lost Bobby along with them. The entire department took a huge hit that night. Dean told me once that Abel reminded him of you. How he and Cain were so close. Of course, John and Bobby showed him some tricks of the trade; but it was mostly Abel who taught him what he knows.” 

Cas breathed in. “It was 1 in the morning when he knocked on my door. Ash smeared all over his face save for clear tracks on his cheeks. Dean looked beat to hell. Said a nurse told him to go home or she’d admit him too. He came to the closest one he could think of. Couldn’t stand to be alone. Then he told me Abel was gone, and things weren’t looking good for Bobby.” 

    Sam’s heart sank for his brothers. He hurt from just  _ hearing  _ this. That couldn’t even cut close to what they had both felt that night some six years ago.

    “Took me a few hours to get it out of him about his father. How John had taken what should have been his first real shift. Not just volunteering. Fate is a funny thing like that.” Cas offered a sad smile as he wiped away the liquid evidence trailing down the left side of his face. 

    Sam couldn’t speak at this point even if he wanted to. 

    “He kept glancing at me the next morning. I can only imagine he was waiting for me to leave too. To become the icing on the cake. We’d have known each other for a little over a year by then. It may not seem like much time now, but then, it had been an eternity. I told him I’d never leave. I guess I had proved that over that short amount of time.” Cas touched the rings again. “That was how he proposed. He asked if I’d stay with him, be by his side. I couldn’t have left even if I wanted to, we both needed each other. We went to the courthouse within that week. Signed papers, bought rings. It had been our secret. It still is- or, was that it’s been seven years instead of six. Back then I ended up being the one who brought up telling you, about what happened.” Cas looked up, his eyes had drifted down during his exploration to look at Dean’s ring resting over his finger. “Bobby was stable by then, so there were no more excuses for him to push it off.” 

 

~~

_ Then… _

 

The buzzing beside his head is what brought him into consciousness. He cracked an eye open, feeling Jess shift under his arm as he looked at the clock. It was nearly midnight. Like hell he was answering. Probably Dad, or even by now Dean, on a late shift trying to see if he’s up. With a groan, Sam felt around the nightstand with a giant paw before finding the vibrating object. There was a note of finality to it as the phone cluttered into one of the drawers along the stand and stopped making noise.

 

He was making breakfast the next morning when the phone rang again. Sam didn’t hear it, so it went unanswered once more. The youngest Winchester too busy laughing with his girlfriend.

    After breakfast, Sam would be digging through his dresser drawers for his nicer almost dress pants. His unstained button up and undershirt hanging on the handle of the closet. He was guiding his belt through the pant loops when the buzzing started again. Sam had been distracted by Jess when it first started, so by the time he realized it wasn’t just his imagination, it had stopped. Sam paused in his actions. This seemed a little too weird for his liking. He hated the thought if it was Dad trying to get ahold of him. Something in the back of his mind told him that if that were true, it could be about Dean. Dean who should have started working at the firehouse by now. Or it could be Jody calling about Bobby. But it was just as likely Dad calling about Dean.

    “Sam?” He hadn’t even noticed that he had stopped completely and was looking at the nightstand. “You alright?” 

    He shook his head to rid of the nasty thoughts. Everyone was fine. They had to be. “Just worrying too much.”  

    Jess sauntered over, splaying a gentle hand over his bare chest. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. Mom and Dad already love you, it’s not like this is the first time you’re meeting them.” She gave him a quick peck before exiting the bedroom. “Now hurry up, they’re expecting us to be leaving soon.” 

_ If that was only half my problems _ , Sam thought to himself. He had told Jess that he comes from a family of first responders. He failed to mention exactly what units they worked with. Mechanically he pulled on one shirt. He was shrugging on the button up when he heard it. The buzzing was soft, almost like a bee or mosquito flying by someone’s ear. Sam’s mind was so flooded with all kinds of thought he barely registered taking the phone from the drawer. In that moment, three years of virtual radio silence could be damned.  

    “Hello?” Sam spoke before the phone was even up to his ear. 

    A breathy, sad chuckle came from the other end. He already knew who it belonged to.  _ “Hey, Sammy.”  _

__ “D-Dean?” Relief washed over him. His brother was still alive. Sam released his death grip on the dresser, patting the wood as if to apologize for nearly breaking off the corner. 

_ “Sammy-”  _

__ “It’s Sam. Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old, Dean.” 

_ “Sammy it’s Dad.”  _

    Sam sighed. Leave it to Dean to be the one who wouldn’t listen. 

_ “You might wanna sit down.”  _ Had that been a sniff he heard? No, that can’t be it.

    “Dean it’s Dad. If he wandered off look for him at some local watering holes.” 

_ “He went to work, Sam an-”  _

__ “He’s a tough son of a bitch.” Sam switched hands so he was facing away from the dresser. “If he hasn’t been home in a few days he might have gotten scratched up on a call.” 

_ “Sam.”  _

__ “I’m sure he’s fine.” Somehow he couldn’t believe his own words. Dean’s tone was off in a very not-Dean-like kind of manner. It was honest to God starting to scare him.

_ “Dad’s dead Sammy. _ ” 

    In his head, he had denied it out loud. Had told Dean he was full of shit. In reality, he had let out a half cry.

_ “Almost lost Bobby too.” _

__ There was someone else. Sam knew it. One more casualty left unsaid. Suddenly the world felt heavy as he choked on his own breath. 

_ “He… he was just too close to the blast.”  _

__ Sam’s knees buckled. His broad shoulder rammed into the dresser as he crashed.

_ “They aren’t calling it an accident. They say it’s arson.”  _

__ The words ‘ _ just like mom _ ,’ went unsaid. Sam could hear it now. The pain, the  _ agony  _ that laced his brother’s voice.

    “Sam? Sam!” Suddenly Jess was on her knees beside him. “Sam, what’s wrong?” She took his head in both hands. 

    He looked up at her with bleary eyes. Tears already running down his face.

_ “They’re sayin’ Bobby won’t walk again.”  _ Dean was rambling now. The phone lay on its side, having tumbled away from Sam when he collapsed. Both he and Jess could hear Dean just fine.

    “What’s going on?” She whispered, holding him closer.

    Sam’s only response was to pull her to him and let out a strangled sound. 

_ “But Dad… S-Sammy, he’s just… gone.”  _ There was whispering, nothing that could be made out. Somehow through his muddled thoughts, Sam thanked whatever higher power that Dean wasn’t alone.  _ “Funeral and visitation are next week. I won’t blame you if you don’t come.”  _ Dean hesitated.  _ “If you do come, Cas says he’d like to meet you. Bye Sammy.”  _

    He couldn’t have questioned about this Cas person even if he wanted to. The very next sound to come from Sam Winchester was a bit off sob. Jess stayed on the floor with him. When her father called to ask about them coming over, she told them all they needed to know. 

…

 

Sam’s hands were shaking as he fixed his tie. Jess silently straightened it, her hand smoothing over his jacket. Her hand cupped his cheek. 

    “You are the strongest man I know.” She whispered. 

    He was glad she had come with him. “Still can’t believe he’s gone.” 

    Jess offered a sad smile before they left. Her hand stayed entangled with his. 

 

Every flag in town was at half mast. Even the ones that hung from porches were flying lower today. There would be two funerals, as Sam was told. There was already a crowd of uniforms along the street. Visitations and funerals were the same day. 

    Sam let his fingers run over the closed casket that belonged to his father. A flag half folded and draped over it. Old Glory reminding everyone in the room that John Winchester was a marine before a fireman. Just like the other that belonged to Abel. Jess guided him over to the photos. Most he recognized, there were some that were new. One of John and Dean donning their turnout gear in what seemed like a neck and neck race. Dean and Abel arm wrestling. If Sam didn’t know any better he’d think this was his brother’s funeral with how many pictures included him. Then again, he was the only son that stuck around. Sam couldn’t help but stare at his brother’s smiling face. It was seeming that he was winning the arm wrestling match. He hadn’t seen that in three years.

    “Dean was close with Abel.” A voice came from beside him. Jess wasn’t next to him anymore, seeming to have wandered off and talked with a few firemen and women. “Said once that the relationship Abel had with his brother Cain reminded him of he and his own brother.” 

    Sam looked down at the shorter man with dark hair. His eyes a striking ocean blue. His hands in his pockets as he spoke to a complete stranger. 

    “You are Sam Winchester, yes?” 

    Sam shifted, not knowing what to think. “Uh, yeah.” 

    Another smile. “I apologize that our meeting couldn’t be under better circumstances.” He held out a ring-clad hand. “I’m Castiel,” 

    “Cas,” He had actually been expecting Cassie for some reason. 

    “Yes, most people do call me that. It is good to meet you, Sam. Dean has spoken highly of you.” 

    “Hey, Cas!” The call came from the other end of the room. 

    “If you’ll excuse me, I must go.” Cas offered another smile before approaching the uniformed group. 

 

The service went by in a blur. Both caskets were lifted onto the back of truck 67 and taken to their last destination. Truck 33 had the latter raised. Another flag attached to the top. 

    Sam looked for Dean the entire time. At the graveside service would be when he’d finally sight his brother. First Abel, then John’s. The honor guard shot off their rounds. A few of the guard members and Chief Turner folded the flag. Bobby and Jody were beside Sam and Jess. Jody stood behind her husband’s wheelchair. The flag was handed off to Sam’s brother. He was alright with that, knowing Dean would want it more. 

    Sam almost didn't recognize his brother at first. Dean looked rough. Stubble lined his jaw, but he also looked older. He stood stock still in uniform, accepting the folded flag. Rufus patted his shoulder. After the small group walked away, someone leaned over from beside Dean. Cas spoke softly, rubbing Dean’s back. Dean nodded and pulled Cas closer beside him after a short kiss. 

    Neither brother was alone. They both had someone to help them through this. As trumpets played taps, Sam gripped Jess’s hand just a little tighter. Dean tucked the flag carefully beneath his arm as he and the others saluted both fallen firemen. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of several names I had debated about for this story was All Over Again ;) 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

**_July 7, 2014_ **

 

_“The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected. No further information is available.”_

 

Dean cursed under his breath as he hung up. He could have sworn that he had talked to Dad just the other day. The other day, four months ago. Or was it years ago? God this was making his head hurt.

    Even that could be interrupted. His head jerked when his phone started buzzing in his hand. Rubbing his temple he accepted the call and lifted the device to his ear, “yeah?”  

    _“Hey, Dean!”_ Even though the dude on the other end of the line was a grown ass man, he always kept Dean wondering how he ever managed to survive anywhere that wasn’t underneath his mother’s roof. Especially when he still sounded like a teenager from time to time. The excitement lacing his voice making Dean groan. _“Bad timing?”_

“No, you’re good Adam.” He liked Adam. He was a good kid. Had his head up his ass just like Sammy when it came to schooling. Dean had thought one annoying little brother had been tough. Then he met Adam and found that two was just ridiculous. At least Sam learned exactly how Dean had felt while growing up.

     _“I can call back-”_

“Really Adam, I’m fine.” Dean’s had worse headaches lately than the ones he’s been feeling now. Much, _much_ worse. Besides he felt the need to humor the kid, he did sound like whatever he had to say couldn’t wait.

     _“Okay, well I’m calling to say that I’m moving back. Jody said there was a job opening.”_ There was an ear to ear grin laced in Adam’s tone. _“You’re the first I’ve told.”_

“What about your mother?”

     _“It’s supposed to be a surprise. But I was hoping to tell you to see if it was a stupid idea. Or maybe you’d talk me out of it.”_

“Are you kidding me right now?” God he wished his head was. “Adam this is great. Jody is a great woman to work under. I’m sure Kate will be overjoyed to have her baby back.”

     _“_ Dean _,”_ Adam groaned.

    Dean couldn’t help the chuckle that rumbled through him. “Need help moving in?”

     _“I might a little by Wednesday. My first shift is a week from then.”_

“That’s awesome kid.” Dean’s lips curled at the ends. “This is really great.”

 

**_July 9, 2014_ **

 

    “Careful,” Dean called out, lifting the box in his arms to avoid Kate. She ducked last minute, but his Dean’s leg. Caught off balance he instinctively grabbed onto the edge of the doorframe. He nearly dropped the box as white-hot pain burst through his bad arm. Adam slipped the cardboard container from his hands while Kate pulled Dean away from the apartment’s door. She sat him down on the couch that he helped carry up.

    “Easy there.” Both sat next to the larger man, examining the shoulder and arm.

    “Is it still bothering you?” Adam questioned.

    “Occasionally.” Dean shrugged, rotating his sore muscles. “If you can’t remember, I didn’t get proper physio until after I woke up.

    Kate hummed.

    “What do you think Doc?” Dean raised an eyebrow at Kate.

    “I think my son should have finished pre-med.” She muttered as she felt over his shoulder.

    “ _Mom_.” Adam groaned

    Dean chuckled, hurt shoulder forgotten. “I know someone else who only got halfway through a residency before they changed careers.”

    Adam looked up at this. “Really? Who is it?”

    The smile fell from Dean’s face. He felt as if the whole world had been ripped as if it had been wallpaper torn from bad adhesive. “I- I… Don’t remember.”

    “Hey,” Kate lay a gentle hand on Dean’s arm. “That’s okay. It’s to be expected with the kind of injury you have.”

    Dean wanted to argue differently. Thit just wasn’t _him_. That whatever he can remember he hadn’t been like this. Waking up every morning and just knowing something was missing drove him nuts.  

    “How about you go home? Adam and I can get the rest, there are only a few boxes left. You’ve helped out a lot already.” Her warm smile stopped his train of thought long enough for Dean to give a nod.

 

...

He didn’t go straight home like he said he would. Charlie was on shift today, so the house would be empty. Right now Dean could deal with being on his own, but maybe not quite like that. Technically he was where he sat, but he didn’t feel alone. That was the important part. The breeze caused the blades of grass twitch back and forth. Flower petals from the tree nearby floated down. The headstones next to him had several of the soft pink leaves perched on them.

 

Of what he remembered.

    He hated that line. _What he remembered_. The line gave truth to the fact that there were scattered pieces of himself all over. Blown all over the place just as much as the flower petals that had come off the tree early. It wasn’t even fall yet. If mother nature could just get her shit together. Then maybe he could finally find his.

    But from what he could remember, he liked coming here to clear his head. To talk to his mom, or, just sit with her sometimes. There was a small pattering on the pavement beside him, before his behemoth little brother sat his huge ass down. He was silent for a moment. Dean could feel his scrutinizing look flit back and forth. Trying not to stay on him for too long save it look suspicious. Sam let out a sigh, picking up the ball cap that lay between them.

    “Found it in the back of the Impala the other day. Funny how you find things that you expect to be long gone.” He took a deep breath. “It made me think of all the time we’d spend in the backyard. Mom would be holding you in her arms. Both of you cheering us on from the back porch.”

    Sam turned those sad puppy eyes to his brother.

    Dean ran a hand through his short dirty blonde hair. “I can’t even remember how he died. The date on that stone means nothing to me. C’mon, how stupid does that sound? But I can’t help asking myself sometimes… Was I there with him when it happened? Was I the first to find him? Did I try compressions?” He rubbed his forehead. “Nine years, Sam. Nine fucking years. I know for a damn fact that I wasn’t in a coma for that long. But I sure as hell can’t remember a damn thing.” Dean let out a small sound. “What am I supposed to do, Sam? What am I supposed to _do_?”

    Silence overlapped them once more. The light gust of wind rustling the leaves of other trees.

    “You had been volunteering at the firehouse beforehand. That night was going to be your first day on the job. Dad took your shift. That old ratty apartment building that the city had been trying to tare down for years caught fire. You were called in anyway for backup when they were swamped. Truck 33 was in the middle of shift change. You got there in time to pull Bobby out. Someone else had gotten to Abel and Dad.” Sam set the ball cap down. “There will be things that you may not ever remember. But you can’t push yourself. For the love of God, Dean. For once in your life please don’t push yourself.”

    “Why?” Dean tensed. “Sam I can’t stand this. I can’t stand knowing that I can’t remember your graduation. I can’t stand knowing that there are things I can’t remember that I _should_.”

    “Because I don’t want to lose you! That’s why!” Sam buried his fingers in his long hair. “Five months ago when I got the call from Benny, I was such a mess Jessica had to drive us to the hospital. I thought it was what happened to Dad all over again. I was convinced that I’d never get to talk to my brother again. That I wouldn’t have you as my best man at my wedding. I didn’t leave the hospital for days after they said you were stable. Then you woke up…” Sam swallowed.

“I told you about things you didn’t remember, and… y-you had some kind of attack. The doctors said that it was because your brain was overloaded with sensory information. That you just shut down. You remembered more when you woke up, but... I’m still terrified.” Sam whispered. “There’s so much I want to tell you, to remind you of. But I’m terrified you’re gonna check out again. That you’ll be overwhelmed by the smallest things.”

    “Hey,” Dean set a hand on Sam’s back. “I’m not going anywhere. Not for a long time.” He slung an arm over his brother’s shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

    Sam suddenly wrapped his arms around Dean, nearly knocking the both of them over.

    Dean was tense for several moments. Sam’s shaggy hair hid his face from Dean. With a sigh he melted into the hug, returning it.

   “Maybe we can work past this. I could tell you something every once and a while.”  

   “Yeah. Sounds good, Sammy.”

 

**_July 27, 2014_ **

 

Sam made do with his promise. One of the first things he told Dean, was that his favorite coffee spot was called Sip of Heaven. How he’d spend every Sunday there. Dean could vaguely remember the place when Sam first told him. Ever since he’d sit down and enjoy a cup o’ joe and maybe even a brownie. The three weeks he’s been coming here he knew this was the place he’d stumbled into a few late nights after it first opened during his exam days. The place wasn’t open that late anymore.

    Somehow he’d managed to come alone today -even after his brother’s protests. Sam had come with him the first time, Charlie had been with him the second time. Dean was a big boy. It was just a coffee place. How much harm could it cause him?

    Apparently a whole hell of a lot. At least in the Samantha rulebook of Everything Goes to Shit: chapter 1, section 3.

    Dean had spotted a dark-haired man in the corner of the cafe by the bookshelves. His nose was in a book, not even taking his eyes from the words as he took sips from his mug. This certainly wasn’t hurting Dean. There was no one to reprimand him for staring. No one making comments. He could drink his own coffee in peace while glancing back at the stranger pushing up his glasses from time to time. _Reading glasses_ , Dean decided. They seemed too big for this guy in a way that made it all the more adorable. Like how the sweater he wore seemed fitting. He made up his mind then. He’d get just a little closer look. That was all he would allow himself. Not needing to bother the dude. An innocent little look-see.

    Boy, how he was wrong. Dean downed what remained in his mug, left it on the front counter, and started to make his way toward the bookshelves. His green eyes were spotlights, finding the man was no longer sitting at the small table. His mind tried to piece together where he could have gone- _Oh._

Dean’s chest collided with something solid. No way in hell it could have been a table. His hand immediately shot out, taking hold of a sweater, pulling the owner to him.

    “Sorry!” The mass pulled against him so neither fell squeaked. His grip on the mug he held tightened.

    Dean glanced down, finding the stranger no longer wore the black framed glasses. “No, no. I wasn’t paying attention.” His breath was nearly stolen when those blue eyes lifted to meet the green, “my fault.”

    “That makes two of us,” the stranger breathed.

    “Huh?” Dean couldn’t even take his eyes off the dude.

    “W-we’re both alright. Excuse me.” He looked away. “Have a good day.” Was thrown over his shoulder as an afterthought.

    Dean was stunned to the point that he stayed in place for several moments. The stranger set his mug on the front counter before exiting the cafe without so much as a second glance. He wanted to go after him. But he was torn. When Dean spotted the book left on the back table, his mind was made up. He picked up _The Queen_ , taking off after the stranger. He was seconds from slipping out the front door. He’d be damned if he let Blue Eyes slip away again.

    Dean could carry a fifty-pound dummy slung over his shoulder. He could climb up the latter of 67 and help a civilian down. Hell, he can save a kitten from a tree. But for the love of God, he could not navigate this damn cafe. His boots caught on chair legs, his sides rammed into tables. Dean nearly knocked into other people, hardly muttering “I’m sorry” on his way out. He cursed his broadness and inability to fit through tight spaces. Trying to slide past two tables only to knock both further from each other simply because he was too  _big_. He’d even managed to save the few plates that would have fallen to their doom; because of him, but he did manage to  _not_ break anything so far. That was a miracle within itself. The stranger was already out the door as  Dean kept chasing after. Tables skid along the hardwood floors as he tried to pass between several more. Chairs were pulled out from their respective places in his struggle to stay upright. Somehow, by another miracle, Dean made it to the door. He didn’t hesitate, pulling it open and darting out. He glanced both ways before taking off to the right and wrapping around the cafe’s corner.

    His heart was thudding behind his ribs. Lips parted in a silent pant. The stranger had paused. They were past the cafe windows, hidden from curious eyes. Dean clutched the book, suddenly with no goddamn clue on what to do next.

    Then those blue eyes were looking at him once more. In that moment he didn’t care if he’d had a plan. The words that slipped from his mouth would have been completely unscripted anyway.

    “For once in my life, I wish I worked for Sheriff Mills instead of the Fire Department.”

    Blue eyes tilted his head as he considered the first responder before him. “Why is that?”

    “I could call off the search.” He dared a step closer. “Cancel the missing persons APB. I’m sure I could get this all done now, but it would have just been easier.” _Stop rambling Winchester._ “Because I just found Heaven’s missing angel.” And suddenly he was right in front of the blue-eyed stranger.

    The same blue eyes he’d seen at the hospital. The same he’d spotted at the grill out. The very ones he'd let slip right through his fingers until this moment.

      _Nice, you dumbass. Mother of all terrible pick-up lines._

 

    The bubble of laughter had Dean taken aback for a moment. Soon he was unable to help the smile curling his lips.

    “Anyway, you left your book.” Better to get the hell out of Dodge while he still had a little dignity left. He pushed the hardcover back to its owner. When he turned, he was held back by a hand on his wrist. Those blue eyes seemed to plead with him to stay.

    “Castiel,” he held up his free hand.

    Well, Castiel was a little better than Blue Eyes. He wouldn’t miss this opportunity.

    “Dean,” they shook hands.

 

If this was the start of something, then this could be damn beautiful.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoy!

**_July 29, 2014_ **

 

If he had ever hated Tuesdays before, he sure as  _ hell _ , hated them now. Physical Therapy was an absolute bitch. His leg had a heartbeat of its own, and there was a small fire running up his arm to his shoulder. That was before he even thought about his head. His limbs were nothing compared to his skull. It felt like someone had smashed the side of his head in like a piggy bank. Currently, the darkness provided by the crook of Dean’s elbow was the only thing keeping him from killing whoever the hell just walked into the house. 

    After TP he had collapsed onto the couch, unable to climb the stairs to his bedroom. A headache was just an added bonus to his soreness. 

    “Hey, Dean!” It was his goddamn idiot of a brother. 

    “Motherfucker,  _ Sam _ !” Dean’s groan was muffled by one of the blessed pillows on the furniture. This would be the first time ever he would kneel in front of Charlie and kiss her feet for insisting these pillows needed to stay. Though something fluffy was trying to tickle his nose. If he sneezed his life would be officially over. The side of his skull would pop right out. Crack open, and his brain would be the jack-in-the-box.

    “Jesus, Dean.” 

    “No, no. Shut your goddamn mouth.” Dean held up a hand, clamping it on his little brother’s jaw. “Don’t even make a fucking sound for-” he peaked out from the pillow to look at his watch. The resulting light that burned his eye made him groan again. Dean flipped over to shove his face into the cold pack between the cushions. He flinched as Sam’s long limbs popped while he lowered himself. His heavy arm weighing down the edge of the loveseat. 

    The angle Dean’s legs hung over the lip was distracting him from most of the pain in his head. 

    “You still getting headaches?” Sam whispered.

    Dean’s retort was along the lines of  _ ‘what does it look like, Sherlock?’  _ but came out more as an overdramatic groan. He also flipped Sam the bird. 

    Eventually, the pain receded to a more manageable nest of wasps. Dean drug his hands over his face. “God that over the counter shit takes it’s sweet fucking time to kick in.” He let his head drop onto the pillow. He then noticed that Sam’s large paw was splayed over his back. Dean honest to God didn’t have the energy to fight it at the moment. Give him an hour and he could knock sasquatch on his ass. 

    “Charlie called.” 

_ Oh great.  _ The redhead had been at work, so Dean, like the big boy he is, took himself to TP. “I survived. Driving was fine. Been doing it since I was twelve, Sammy.” 

    “She called since you didn’t text her like you said you would. That was after Missouri called me.”

    “Yeah, yeah. ‘We’re all worried about you, Dean.’ I get it.” 

    “No. You don’t.” Sam’s glare was cold, but there was that unmistakable shine that he was trying to fight back. “You have no fucking clue.” 

    Dean was taken back by this. 

    “You were out for four months, Dean.  _ Four months _ . They were still unsure if you’d make it even after four weeks!” Dean flinched. Later he’d claim that it was Sam’s tone and his still-very-much-there migraine. “So no. You don’t understand that Charlie didn’t want to be the one to walk in here and find you on the floor or something.” 

    “So she sends you in to find it.” He wasn’t angry with Charlie, just the world in general.

    “Because out of everyone, I was willing to let you go.” Sam pulled his long legs to his chest. He no longer faced his older brother, who he still idolized. 

    Dean leveraged himself onto his elbows. “Sam-” 

    “I was on my knees when I found out you woke up. But, before that… Watching a machine day in and day out breathe for you.” He shook his head. “You just- you  _ don’t  _ know.” 

    Dean was silent as he was the first to reach out this time. He still lay belly down on the couch, but he snaked an arm around his baby brother. 

 

They were both silent for a while. The tick of the clock irritating the wasps' nest on the left side of Dean’s head, though he said nothing. 

    “Doc’s been tryin’ to pin this PTSD shit on me. You sure you don’t have it?” He offered a weak smile. 

    Sam snorted. “I’m not the one skipping out on appointments.” 

    Dean retracted his arm but covered it by rolling onto his back. Sam turned, resting his back against the coffee table. “You really aren’t gonna stop shoving that in my face are you?” 

    The long strands slid around Sam’s face with his head shake. “Not a chance.” 

    “I hope you know you are my least favorite person right now.” He gave a sigh after a while. “I don’t go because I just don’t think it helps. Yeah, some of the guys go to see her after some bad blazes. But how is she helping my memory? I can’t remember shit about any of it. There’s nothing to talk about.” 

    That lie was more than white. He wasn’t about to tell Sam that either. 

    “Listen, there’s something I’d like to do later this week. If I ask Missouri to come with me, will you get off my back Samantha?” 

    The tension in Sam’s shoulders faded out. “Yeah, sounds good.” 

    “Great. Fantastic. I’m done with this chick flick shit.” 

 

**_August 1, 2014_ **

 

Dean finally found the strength on Friday. Missouri thankfully was just meeting him there, having gotten clearance to be in the building. Benny had offered to be there with them, but Dean preferred having the smallest number of people there. This is how he found himself on a nice Friday afternoon. His green eyes scanning the charred warehouse that he had no memory of ever rushing into.  

    “Anything stirring in the mind of yours boy?”

    “Not a damn thing.” 

    “Here,” she shoved a helmet at him. More importantly  _ his  _ helmet. Ash was smeared over the normally clean object. There were still a few lingering blood stains to go with. 

    Without much thought, Dean shrugged and slipped in over his head. He could feel the energy build up beneath his skin as he stepped to the doors. He could almost see the way the flashing lights would have bounced off the exterior. The cry of glass shattering bursting into the night. It had been night, he was almost certain of it now. How the staccato of rushing boots wouldn’t echo so much in a building like this as all hell swallowed it whole. For some reason, Dean turned to the staircase. 

    The step screamed in disapproval under his weight. There was a caved-in spot halfway up. Someone’s leg had gone through on their way down. He tested a few steps again. They all screeched, but other than that could hold him. Dean’s shoulders grew tense with the sick feeling bubbling in his stomach. He didn’t like this. This place was wailing out a story that he was apparently apart of. His gut rolled with the foam of unease. 

    “Remembering something?” 

    Dean jumped, having forgotten Missouri was even there. “A little.” He spoke, not really knowing how to put it. He could remember barking out orders, but that could have been any fire. He backed away from the stairwell, continuing on the first floor. 

 

The further in he went the more tangled the building’s insides became. A fallen support beam with blood surrounding it. Dean had to suppress a shudder. 

 

_ “Shit, Dean!” _

 

He shook it off and continued. The next thing to give him pause was a giant hole in the fucking ceiling. His heart was ramming into his ribs at a hundred miles an hour.

 

_ ‘Dean! Dean report!’ _

 

There was a much bigger bloodstain left behind. He saw it then. The flicker of the fire. Hell, he could feel the heat. Debris scattered all around, much more than it is now. The ashes floated down like snow.

    A gentle hand on his shoulder pulled him away from the scene that had been haunting his dreams for weeks. His hands were balled up at his sides.

    “We can stop for today.” It was more of the gentle offer that he honestly had no choice with. She’d pull him out of here kicking and screaming if needed. 

    “There- there's something I need to see.” Without much thought, his feet carried him toward the back. Something had just been feeling off since he stepped back in. Everything here had mostly been untouched for five months. The phone was to his ear before he reached his destination, looking around at the area. 

_ “Captain Abaddon speaking.”  _

__ “This is Dean Winchester,” he paused as he moved what had been a crate. Has anyone from 33 checked out the warehouse fire?” 

_ “Some of the guys combed it over for anything we’d missed. Rufus called for it. I don’t think anyone’s been too quick to check the building. Employees said the electricity had been acting up that day. Main office claimed it as an accident.”  _

__ “That’s all I needed, thanks, Captain.” He didn’t give her much room to comment after he hung up. He had reached the area where it ‘started’. Wires were sticking out every which way. One, in particular, seemed to be out of place. A mangled gas can wasn’t too far from a tipped over forklift. For Dean’s trained eye it was easy to spot how far the liquid had to have spread. The back tire was flat. No rouge nails within it, just a slash of the rubber. Coincidently the spill had happened in front of the back exits. The fire having already been on the floor above.

    Quickly Dean made his way up the back set of stairs, finding the room it actually all started in. The abandoned conference room was nearly black all around. A hole in the back corner was how the flames had dropped down. He collected some ashes between his fingers. Rubbing the rough texture it spread over his skin. 

    The phone was back to his ear after sending a heads up to Jody. When the call was picked up, Dean was the first to speak. “Chief, get the main office on this. We got a problem down at the warehouse fire site.” His eyes zeroed in on the melted glass and plastic of what had to have been a timer.

“It doesn’t look like much of an ‘accident’ anymore.” 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Besides the chapter of near completely fluff-ish- I said ISH (your welcome)  
> I'd like to take a second an kinda toss the idea to you guys. I've been thinking of another Destiel fic that I've been calling Faultless. Dean isn't a hunky firefighter (like from firehouse 51 in Chicago Fire), but he has his heroic moments. ;) 
> 
> anyway, I have a quote that I thought was quite fitting for this book. Very much so for a nod to a conversation that takes place in this chapter: 
> 
> There is a tendency for things to right themselves ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson 
> 
> As always hope y'all enjoy!

**_August 6, 2014_ **

 

Even several days after the discovery of the evidence, people are still hanging over him. Even when Dean’s underneath a fucking car he knows they just can’t seem to leave him alone. It’s the middle of the damn week, thank you very much.

    Rufus and people from the main office had swarmed the warehouse to see what else could be discovered. That led to an uncomfortable encounter with Alistair. Thankfully Donna had been there to keep Dean busy and away from the weird bastard.

   Right after cue the increasing worried looks from every single person around him. That had been _great_. He put his foot down when someone mentioned calling Sam. He was at work and the last thing he needed at the moment was getting a call involving his amnesiac older brother. No, Sammy had enough things on his shoulders at the moment. Keeping this from him surely wouldn’t hurt.

 

Something bumped his foot.

    “What?” Dean snipped as he pushed himself from under the vehicle.

    “You sure this is a good idea?” He found the sheriff looking down at him. Her arms were crossed and that characteristic arch of an eyebrow all pointed to him.

    Honestly, this was easier on his leg that had been hurting since the previous day’s _awesome_ TP activities. Though Dean wasn’t about to voice that.

    “I’m fine Jody.” He used the bumper of the car to help lift himself so he towered over the peace officer. He gave her a flicker of a smile before turning to sort out the tools.

    It was silent for several moments. Dean could feel her scrutiny hanging on his every move. She had more to say. He paused at this for a moment before setting back what he didn’t need and grabbing what he did. One hand lay on the workbench.

    “But are you?” The question came finally.  

    Suddenly he found that his hand was gripping onto the table tightly. A glance over Dean’s shoulder revealed that Jody had relaxed. The look in her eye wasn’t quite worry, but that need to find whatever was causing her child’s nightmare.

    Dean sighed. It’s not like he hasn’t lied to her before, but it was hard to do and he was tired. He was tired of all the questioning. The constant worry radiating around any and everyone who came within twenty feet of him. Of the very damn fact that there were those 9 years. Nine fucking years of his life wiped away like someone just cleared a hard drive. Deleted the history so no one would discover their searches. His knuckle was white, wrapped around the edge, and he sat down on the stool next to him.

    A hand ran over his face as he rested his elbow on the bench. “I’m tired, Jody.”

It finally felt like he could breathe easier again.

    Jody was silent as she crossed the shop. Her arms warm and welcoming as they always have while wrapped around Dean’s much larger frame.

    “It’ll be alright. Everything should work itself out in the end.”

 

Right after he woke up his response would have been _okay, sure_.

At the grill out: _Eventually_.

A week ago: _Will it?_

Monday: _Hopefully_.

Now, now he had even bigger doubts.

 

    “Did… did you actually remember anything last Friday?” Dean could hear the hope that she was trying to keep down. He just didn’t have anything in him to crush or save that feeling.

    “I don’t know. Maybe,” he sighed, arms crossing over Jody’s. “I’ve read those reports so many times I could recite it in my sleep. But Sam…”

    Oh God Sam had looked like he was given the world when Missouri had spoken with him.  Those sparks in his eyes with the flicker of emotion he had no clue how to handle anymore.

    “I don’t know.” How could he tell? Anything he imagined or the voices that echoed in his head, how could he know if it had been real? If it had been true?

    Unconsciously the thumb of his left hand rubbed his ring finger. He didn’t know why. He accepted he probably wouldn’t ever know why. But somehow through all this chaos, it grounded him. So did the thought of a blue-eyed stranger who sat at the table closest to the bookcase.

 

**_August 10, 2014_ **

 

By Sunday he was nearly tearing his hair out. At this rate, he’d go bald or grey before he hit forty. After he had gotten out of the hospital Rufus  _and_ Bobby threatened to put Dean back in one if he even thought about going back to work before his leave was up. It had started to drive him crazy, but the barrage of questioning he’d been getting since the previous week was the new winner. At first, it was about the warehouse - that _again_ , he never remembered rushing into. Gradually the questions evolved into how he was doing, what did he think of all this? Bla bla bla. The next person who asks him anything chick flick worthy, he’d sock in the mouth.

 

Thankfully everyone took the hint to shove their questions elsewhere. At least for the time being.

 

Sip of Heaven offered a strangely familiar safety. Nothing like the Roadhouse did. Currently, Ellen would rather give Dean another concussion than serve him anything other than juice or water. Though at Sip of Heaven, no one really knew him. So he could be that guy with a cane sitting at the bookshelf table. His eyes can scan over the place in his little corner of the world and just find peace. Something that was seeming to get harder to do in the shit storm he called his life.

    Dean hated that cane like nothing before. Right now he was alright with taking some weight from his bad leg. More like bum leg with how its been lately.

    But that wasn’t his reality at the moment. No, right now he was sitting like any other human being sipping coffee and glancing at the book he had found at Sam’s place. _The Queen_. It was pretty good so far. The light-toned walls around the small cafe had dark wings designed randomly through the place. They almost looked like they were burnt into the brick, and in some places -such as the bookshelf behind him- they were. The area had this calming effect on people, on Dean. He could see now why he had liked this place so much in the first place. It wasn’t half bad the second time around either.

 

In his book he was still in the beginning chapters, yet to find double digits. Though the chapter he was currently on struck a chord somewhere in the back of his dusty mind. Some cobwebs shifted to drift a deja vu feeling over it. The main character had just woken up in the hospital after the accident that killed her adoptive mother. The storyline then jumps to several years in the future. Now Koda and her father exchange a teasing banter about having the day off.

    Why was it so familiar? The fuck was going on?

    

    Confusion was still swirling in his muddy brain as he looked up to footsteps. It was all halted when he discovered the blue eyes taking him in.

    “You can sit down,” the words were out before he even knew it was he that spoke them.

    And suddenly the moment was broken by a deep voice that was whiskey over gravel. The deep thrum of laughter helps him forget about the ache in the side of his head that had been starting to radiate out.

    “That’s great since this is my normal spot.”

    If ‘ _oh, I’ve noticed’_ didn’t sound like Dean was a fucking stalker, he’d offer Cas-Castiel a verbal response instead of a shrug.

    “Then I hope you don’t mind paying for both of us. Your treat, as repayment for bumping into me.”

    “Whoa, hold up. You said we were both fine.” An itty bitty panic was running through him now. Oh fuck, who was he kidding? A _full-blown_ panic was rising up inside. Had he somehow offended the angel in front of him? Angel. It had a nice sound to it. He’d bet the Impala that it would roll off his tongue like honey. It just _fit_ this man to a T. How natural it’d be to just say something like that softly in his-

     _Knock it off Winchester!_ He chided himself.

    He blinked to find that Castiel - he was nearly positive that was his name- laughing again.

    “What?” Not he was back to confused. Though he was far from the confusion that would later make his head feel like it was bashed in with the blunt side of a hammer.

    “It’s just,” as quickly as the bright smile had appeared, it slipped. First his lips turned down, then the brightness of the blue faded. With how sad Castiel looked made Dean want to beat up whoever stole his candy. Cas let out a breath, ducking his head. “You remind me of someone.”

    Dean didn’t know why, but he now felt like a dick. Mood killer.

    “Don’t know if that’s a good thing, but,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not him.”

    The curl to Castiel’s mouth was just as -if not more- heart-wrenching than watching the brightness flicker from his eyes. “No, no you are not.”

     _Bad decision. Bad bad bad._ He knew instantly where he had fucked up. Royally. The air was suddenly heavy and uncomfortable. Most notably, the discussion needed to be changed.

    “So uh, s'good book.” Dean lifted up _The Queen_.

    Cas’s sad blue eyes moved over, seeming to read the title a million times. That sad smile returned with something just a little passed depression. At least in a good way.

    “I’ve lost count how many times I’ve read it.” Cas cleared his throat and sat up. “It’s because of the author of this book,” he tapped the cover, “that I meet my best friend.”

    Dean stayed silent as Cas seemed to look off into the distance. Into the past. His lips curled up into a truer smile. His unfocused eyes looking right at a set of wings.

    “He actually did the same thing you had. Started reading something else by Carver Edlund just to have something to start talking to me about.” Dean then realized that Cas had his hand curled around something that hung from his neck.

     _Landmines._ Dean thought. It seemed that he’d have to tread lightly. There was something there, just under the surface that Cas wanted to let out. It was also clear that it was too painful to even scratch at. Whatever kind of wound it is, it hadn’t scabbed over yet.

    “For me it’s campfires.”

    Cas jerked his head back, thrown into the now once again. “What?”

    “You have books, and maybe a few other things that remind you of people you love. Those who’ve you lost.” Dean scratches his head. “It sounds stupid, trust me I know. Never told anyone this because of that. But for me it’s campfires.” Somewhere his mind was screaming how un-Dean-like this was. He honestly couldn’t care less. Cas had these kind ocean eyes that he could just get lost in. They were trusting, so much he couldn’t help but dive in. Couldn’t help but offer up this little piece of himself.

“My father had been a firefighter for as long as I could remember. Neither of my parents seemed to mind me following in his footsteps. But the one thing that made me want to do it more was November 2, 1983. Electrical fire started in my baby brother’s nursery. I remember catching a glimpse of my mother, she was caught under something. Never found out. But I got my brother out and my father was dragged out by the guys he knew. Hell, I knew ‘em too.

    “Ever since if I watch a campfire for too long I think of that. Though after I always glance at Sammy and remind myself that he’s still okay. Dad got out of there too.” When his eyes focused again, he found a dark cup of coffee staring up at him. As he lifted his head he found the same for those blue eyes.

    “That's your defining moment...The reason why you wanted to become a firefighter, besides following your father? So it never happened to anyone else.”

    Dean turned his mug absently, “yeah.”

    “Well, Dean. I think that’s pretty heroic.”

That small smile gracing Castiel’s lips turned out to be contagious. This would turn out to be one of the best Sundays, hell best days, in a long while.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's first day back at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before y’all get all mad at me, I’m from the state that is made fun of the most in this chapter. I’m not dissing it just to do it. It’s for the comedy! 
> 
> But anyway, hope y’all enjoy!

**_September 9, 2014_ **

 

It had felt like months. Dean was becoming so stir-crazy he thought it was a matter of time before he’d spontaneously combusted under the hood of some random station wagon. The days left of leave were trickling down. And suddenly he didn’t have any left.

    That morning Rufus eyed him as he walked in with his bag. Bobby from beside him shared the look.

    “What’d are you grinnin’ for boy?” Bobby rumbled.

    “Back to work, now I got something more interesting to look at than the guts of a car.”

    Benny whistled from across the room. “It’s about time brother!”

    “Then there's that guy.” Dean motioned with his thumb over his shoulder.

    Physical Therapy sessions were getting few and far between. His head had been better, but he was still prescribed something for the migraines. His cane was tucked in his closet. Out of sight, out of mind. Dean crossed his arms as Benny rested an arm on his shoulder.

    “You know old man, you sure show up here ‘lot for being retired.”

    Dean gasped, “you stole my line.”

    “Can it, ya’ idjits.” Bobby snapped back. “I got a bigger workload now that Suzie Q here is back in this nut house. Speaking of I need to get back to my own.”

    “Don’t let Jody catch ya’ saying that.” The Winchester teased.

    “See ya, Bobby,” Benny and Rufus offered small waves.

    “Adios amigo,” Dean saluted.

    “Don’t think too hard, you might hurt yourself.” Bobby threw back one hell of a stink eye on his way out. “I don’t wanna get another call in the middle of the damn night about one of you fucking Winchesters.” He was still walking away. Bobby’s growl seemed to bounce off the trucks and around the opened garage.

    “Gotcha Samantha,” Dean called out, mischief alight in his eyes.

    Benny and Dean had twin shit-eating grins. “Samantha rulebook of Everything Goes to Shit: chapter 5, section 8. No promises.”

    Bobby’s only answer was a shake of the head.

    Rufus stepped up with a clipboard Dean hadn’t noticed before. “Lafitte, you’re on cleaning crew. Winchester,” Rufus looked up. “You’re on light duty, and I have a very important job for you today.”

     _Oh no._ He was gonna say it. _No no no no no_.

Rufus’s smile could rival the Satan himself. Too bad Nick wasn’t here.

 _Shit_. He was gonna do it.

…

 

Dean loved his job. Very, very much. Though that didn’t stop the few times that he abso- fucking-lutely downright  _despised_ his boss. Smoke detector checking was one of the worst jobs. Honestly, on certain days it put mop duty to shame on the suck-o-meter.

 

And Dean was stuck with it.

 

Of course, this was a job done maybe three times a year. It all depended on how fast each group worked. When John Winchester complained about this task, he had few buildings to test in. Dean could still remember those days, back when Lawrence was a much, much smaller town. Everyone knew everyone kind of feel. But in John’s grief over Mary, he tore his boys away from the only life they’ve ever known. He dragged them everywhere. First, it was Dallas, then Kermit. From there it was Birmingham, Jasper, Tucson, Albany,  Aspen, Boise (even though that was a meager few months at most there). Texas, Alabama, Georgia, Colorado, Tennessee, Idaho, South Dakota. It went on. Hell, there was even that year they lived in Iowa before most of that. Some town that Dean just could never remember how to pronounce the goddamn name. It wasn’t like he wasn’t seven when they moved there anyway. Dub-something. Dub-que? Dubaqu? Dub- aw whatever. Don’t even get him started on the capital. All he can remember was that the place was practically right next to the Mississippi. It was a nice river to just watch or even fish in. On the summer when the damn thing wasn’t out of the banks.

    Oh, yeah, how could he forget? One of the last places they had gone to before moving back to Kansas, was Iowa. _Again_. It wasn’t horrible, except all that time he had spent training Sammy to catch the alluring melody of the ice cream truck before it even got onto their street; had been wasted. Seriously, what kind of state is Iowa to outlaw an  _ice cream truck_?

    Besides, the only good thing to ever come from the Hawkeye state was John Wayne. Alright, and maybe the hot chick with the katana from Walking Dead. But mostly John Wayne.

     And now he was thinking of Ashton Kutcher. _Great_.

 

A shiver ran up his spine. That was beside the point. Really Lawrence had grown a lot since ‘83. To distract himself, Dean wondered who’d he be paired with. Normally they took one person from each firehouse. Mostly it was from truck 33 along with Dean’s shift. Though since the next town over had been building up their fire crew, one of them may show.

    Either way, Dean was given an answer pretty quickly as he shouldered his equipment bag.

    “Winchester! It’s good to see you back.”

    Dean turned right as Cain patted him roughly on the back. “I was starting to worry they’d pair me with Satan.”

    “You almost were,” Cain muttered. “Lucky bastard you are. Nick called in today. Had some shit to wrap up. Or as he put it ‘family issues.’”

    Dean snorted at that.

    “Let's not stand around all day. I’d like to go home when shift ends.”

    They walked in step as they approached the front doors of the local University. “Tell me about it. I’m surprised Rufus even gave it thought to let me carry this out till the end of shift.”

    “Gotta start somewhere,” the older man smirked.

    “Oh shut up.” This wouldn’t be bad. No, Cain was a respectable guy. This might actually be enjoyable.

    They were both greeted on their way in by staff and a few students mostly eyeing Dean. Cain’s wedding band and greying hair mostly shone in the lighting; most likely warded off the ogling eyes. If Dean had to guess, some of them were actually looking at the scar that peeked out of his hairline on the left side of his face. In the area where his skull had split open. Almost as if called for, pain started to pulse in the area with just those thoughts. He felt as if something was missing. This wasn’t a new feeling, he felt it whenever he left the milk out or forgot his phone at home for the millionth time. It happened a lot more often than it should. Especially since the accident. No, not accident. A head injury could do that, he knew. But this was a much deeper hole left. Something more important. All Dean could do was shake it off.

    “I’ll take the East end, work my way up to the top floor. Meet you there.”

    “That leaves me with the West end.” Cain looked over at Dean as they headed to their respective hallways. He tapped the radio on his shoulder. “Don’t hesitate, got it? Remember I know you, Winchester.”

    “You sound like Rufus. Sure you aren't going soft in your old age?”

    “It seems to be taking you longer to grow some sense in yours.” They both chuckled. “Seriously, anything. Just radio, and I’ll be over.”

    “Alright,” Dean agreed for the sake of just getting to work. With that, they parted ways.

 

The first couple lecture halls and rooms weren’t busy or had a small class. Students would watch him more than their professors as he made sure the alarms worked. It was a mostly quiet start. That was until he was making his way up to the second floor. Dean heard the squeak of shoes against the linoleum before a body was tumbling down the stairs toward him. Instantly Dean dropped his bag. The stairs blurred under him as he caught the poor kid. His floppy hair parted, eyes looked up in fear as Dean hauled him to his feet once more. His sharp features contorted before be shoved Dean away.

    “C’mon Tran. Get back here!” A dark hand gripped onto the kid’s shirt and jerked him back to the top of the stairs. The smaller one yelped as the much older man tossed him back to the hall.

    “Hey!” Dean barked, rushing up to them.

     He knew the face. Dammit, he knew that face when the man turned. In the back of his mind, the thought flickered that he might have given Sam trouble a long time ago. But this guy, with his wide, crazy eyes, could give anyone trouble.

    “ _Stay out of it_!” The spit that flew from his lips could have been mistaken as foam in the right lighting. Dude was completely nuts.

    Not giving Dean any opening to say more, he turned with fists flying at Tran.

    Dean had no clue how it had gotten to this point or why. He was clueless on any reason at all besides the fact that no one was stopping it. No one except him. It was stupid. The thought was rash. Hell, he didn’t even have a plan besides getting between them. Yeah, he was a class-a moron at this point. The bigger man’s fist collided with Tran’s. A bruise already forming on his cheek. The kid’s yelp echoed eerily down the hall. There was still no sign of anyone coming.

 

It was the last thing he wanted to do. But there was no other choice.

    Dean flipped his phone out, he had the college office’s number saved on his phone. “I gotta problem on my end. Top of the first staircase. You might wanna hurry. Get security down here stat.”

    Two minutes tops, if the guards didn’t have to stop to take a piss. Two minutes was a short and goddamn long time. The brawl was already out of hand.

    “Gordon please!” Tran flinched away as the other came after him.

    “I said knock it _off_ ,” Dean growled.

    Gordon pivoted, knocking Dean in the chest. Even though he was desperately trying to remember to breathe, Dean grabbed a hold of the attacker.

    It was when he could finally suck air in again was when Dean noticed the clock on the wall.

     _One minute down_.

    Gordon struggled in his arms. “Just calm down, man.”

    Meanwhile, the Tran kid was desperately trying to crawl backward.

    Gordon managed to force one of Dean’s legs from under him, sending both of them to the ground.

    Another glance at the clock. _A minute and a half. C’mon, c’mon._

    Out of nowhere, rouge elbow dug into his side. Gordon’s struggling picked up once more.

    “I’ll kill you, Kevin! You hear me? I’ll kill you!”

    “C’mon man,” Dean internally groaned. “You don’t need to do this.”

    That elbow slammed down into his ribcage, and it also brought a friend. Two more blows before he heard it. Dean was convinced that he was just hearing things now.

    His eyes drifted. _Three minutes._

    The kid, Kevin, looked as if he was scared shitless. Probably was too. He stood, fists balled up. Gordon left Dean on the ground to face off on the poor dumbass.

     _Five minutes_.

    Dean peeled himself from the dusty floor to pull Gordon back from Kevin. But this time was different. Kevin launched himself at his attacker. Each time Gordon went to reciprocate a blow he only hit air. Kevin zig-zagged back and forth.

    Dean unhooked his arms from underneath Gordon's. A steady stream of blood was trickling from Kevin’s nose. It didn’t look broken, so that was one of the best things right now. Gordon had the start of a black eye. His skin already puffing up in that area along with a few others. The beginning of a sneer curled Gordon’s lip. Now, Dean was a pretty tall dude. So was Gordon. Both of them had several inches on this kid. Good for him for fighting back, but this little hissy fit needed to end.

     _Seven minutes._

    “Alright _cool it_!” Dean boomed. He stood between the two, arms outstretched to each man. His voice carried through the empty hallway. Their eyes were so wide they nearly bulged out of their skulls. The two before him stripped down to nothing but toddlers.

“I don’t give a shit what kind of beef you have for each other, but this is  _not_ the place to do it. So get the fuck over it or get out.”

    There. Dean actually had to hold back a triumphant smirk. Who the hell needs security? If it was this easy then Dean should pick up a shift or two. They were both shocked to the point that they stayed like that. It had gotten so silent that Dean could hear the hurried footsteps. Not coming from the stairwell. There were some rushed steps from the steps, but from down the hall is what caught his attention. A teacher must have heard the commotion. Or Dean had yelled loud enough to awaken the local ghosts.

    “Kevin?” He knew that voice. Oh man, he knew it. They sucked in a breath, “Dean?”

    Dean’s head snapped to discover those blue eyes looking right at him. They were accompanied by the reading glasses, an armful of books, and a navy sweater.

    The man took a step forward. “Dean?”

    He barely had time to register Kevin’s eyes widening once more. It seems the interruption had snapped them out of their daze. Quickly Dean went to look back at Gordon. The left hook was easy to sidestep as Dean grabbed the balled fist.

    “Dude!” They had _j_ _ust_ calmed the fuck down!

    The right jab was what came from nowhere. Dean normally could take a hit or two in a fight, but this one hit his left side. It had been aimed for his face. His vision instantly grayed

 

If he thought it was hard to breathe before, boy was he wrong. Air? What the fuck is that? His lungs sure didn’t have a clue. Dean’s heart stopped while his lungs shrank. He smelled smoke. Could even hear the crackling of fire from the depths of his mind. Hell, his radio was buzzing and there was a ringing. More of a beeping now, as if the alarm attached to his turnout gear was blaring away. The pain so unbearable, Dean could swear his brain would crack open any second now. He barely registered his knees crashing to the ground. There was noise.

The pulsing pain surrounded his entire body like the heat radiating from fire. There was movement. More bodies joined in. Shouting from a distant, far off place. But for the life of him, he just couldn’t make anything out. That voice again, calling something. Beans? Now, why would he want beans?

    No, _Dean_. The voice of an angel was calling for him. For _Dean_.

    All he could see was white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just sayin'
> 
>  
> 
> I'm not sorry. :3


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean saves a cat in a tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to do a little bit of a summery just for the fun of it. Hope it's keeping y'all on your toes :3 
> 
> Not to sound cocky or anything, but, 
> 
> ;) your welcome

**_September 9, 2014_ **

 

White hot **_pain_**.

    That's all Dean was able to register. Not his own footsteps or the person guiding him to god knows where. Not the voice that whispered soothingly in his ear. All Dean could feel, smell, -hell he could taste it- was pain. He could see flashes of thing around him whenever he opened his eyes, must mostly, he only saw white.

    Dean didn’t know when he was laid down. He didn’t know if they were rushing him back to the hospital or not. Beyond all the pain that was practically drowning him, he hoped they weren’t. Whoever ‘they’ were. It was a person, he could tell that much. Though the heated pulsing on the side of his skull dictated how far those thoughts went. Dean was sure that his heart was no longer in his chest but on the side of his head. Probably about to spill out along with his brain matter and splat on the floor like Jello. Now _there_ was a fun thought.

    So for this moment, or however long it had been, Dean was dead to the world. Maybe not even figuratively. Considering he was hardly able to lift anything without being paralyzed with pain, he’d be better off dead. Then again there was so much he still was yet to do.

    Yeah, perhaps right now was a bad time to die.

 

Then the cold came. At first, he was sure he was dead or on his way there. The shock causing him to arch off of whatever he lay on. A second later he realized that something was holding him down. No, someone. Or several someones. Just like that, it was much easier to breathe. The white fading into the dark behind his eyelids. He could still hear that voice. Unsure of the words, but the angel was speaking. The same one that had followed him since he woke up in the hospital. Cold swirled around his still aching head, chasing most of the pain away. Slowly, the world was coming back.

    “I- I just can’t.” There was a huff. “I don’t even know why we didn’t just call an ambulance.”

    “If you’re going to be that upset about it, then it was my idea.” This voice was much closer. His mind connected this voice with the cold pack pressed against his head. “I was already here when the fight happened. So I suggested that we bring him here and not move him.”

    “Michael, I can’t let you shoulder this,”

    “You sure as hell can, Cassie.” The new voice sounded further away as well. “You keep insisting that this man isn’t _him_. This is a completely different person.”

     “No, no that’s not _him_ , Gabriel.” Angel sounded near hysterics. “I basically have a stranger in my office and on my couch.”

     Dean attempted to open his eyes. When that failed he shifted, having recognized the ‘angel’s’ voice. “I wouldn’t exactly call us ‘strangers’, Cas.”

    The room sucked in a breath, leaving it draped in fresh silence.

    Then the small voice came while Dean blinked. “Dean?” He nearly missed it.

    Who Dean could only assume was Michael, helped him sit up. “I mean, we’ve been having coffee together for the last month.”  He groaned as the cold pack shifted.

    “Easy there,” Michael gripped his shoulder. “Took quite the blow back there.”

    Dean jerked away when a light was shined in his eye.

    The shorter guy looked at Cas with a smug smirk.

    “Did know you worked here,” Dean looked to Castiel as he rubbed his head.

    “Sometimes I forget.” Castiel eyed Gabriel. “Dean, this is my older brother Gabriel, and my cousin Michael.”

    “You,” Dean narrowed his eyes at Gabe. “Don’t you own Sip of Heaven?”

    Gabe seemed to nearly bounce off the walls with this. “The one and only. Well, my wife owns it too.” His grin was nearly too large for life.

    “Haven’t seen you before, though.” Dean turned to Mike.

    “Moved into town about a month ago. I transferred to the hospital in town from out of state.”

    Dean hummed in acknowledgment. His eyes kept drifting back to Castiel as Michael went on to explain that after the kind of head injury Dean had suffered from, lingering pain wasn’t abnormal. He just couldn’t get that voice out of his head.

 

**_September 18, 2014_ **

 

He ran into Cas a couple more times after the fight. The kid, Kevin, turned out alright. Gordon, that was a different story. Dean had gone back to the University earlier in the week, only to be interrupted again. A professor was walking with a few colleagues when he had just dropped. Luckily Dean was around the corner when someone had shouted. Not a one of them knew CPR as the poor guy was going into cardiac arrest. Dean had to radio for Meg and Tessa to come over since Charlie and Jo had already been called out. Cas had come around the corner right as Meg and Tessa had relieved Dean.  He was there until Dean was ushered away by Cain. They had more work to do, and still had a few inspections to finish up after the previous week’s distraction. Dean had narrowly escaped Michael calling Sam the first time.

 

Even though the days ticked by and several went without a single sighting of the blue-eyed angel; he was always on Dean’s mind. Even all the way back next to the cobwebs, but just in sight that it was nearly infuriating. Though he seemed to be doing just fine during this shift. Nothing had led to a single mishap so far. Most importantly he had been too busy to think of Castiel. Maybe that was a good thing, the guy had to be taken.

    “Winchester!” Rufus boomed.

    Dean jerked awake at his desk. He hadn’t even noticed he nearly dozed off over a few papers. Sleep had been a complete bitch lately. He turned in his chair to find Rufus in the doorway to his office. “Hmm?”

    “If you’re done with your napping on the job, go home.”

    “I’m fine Rufus.” He nearly flinched at the sound of his own voice. Two weeks. He had been back to work for two weeks and Rufus was still sending him home early. Though, his false statement was followed almost immediately with a yawn.

    “Sure you are.” The older man rolled his eyes. For the moment, he reminded Dean of Bobby. “You need some more sleep. Oh, and if you think you’re getting off the hook this easy, I have a job for you on the way home.” Rufus crossed his arms, before starting to walk off.

    “Wait, what?”

    Rufus laughed as he muttered out a street address. That it was an ‘errand’ that needed running.

…

 

It was a cat. A motherfucking cat in a tree. That was this so-called ‘errand’ Rufus had sent him on. Dean wasn’t sure if it didn’t double as some kind of punishment. The chief had mentioned something about everyone else being on the job and Dean seemed to conveniently have the time for this. The time maybe, the patience, most definitely not. It was a fucking _cat_ for God’s sake! Can’t it just climb down?

    He was answered quickly by the little fluff ball mewling from a higher branch. That was a flat negative.  _Great_.

    Dean had never been more embarrassed to be wearing his FD jacket while doing something so cliche. Nevermind how outrageously stereotypical this had to be. Like the good soldier he was, he sucked it up and didn’t let any of that show on his face as he positioned one of the neighbor’s letters. If it was bad enough to have the cat’s owner breathing down his neck, it intensified when several snooping people next door (on both sides) decided to join in on the fun.

    There was no way he’d ever let anyone know the extent of his mortification. How a firefighter in the real world rescuing a cat from a tree was downright senseless. The people on the ground were quickly forgotten as he stepped up toward the top. With those tiny green eyes of the curled up kitten, he really had nothing to be mad about anymore. She was all curled up, clinging to the branch. Her tri-colored fur ruffled with a small breeze.

    Dean was reminded for a second exactly why he loved his job. Why he decided to follow his father in the first place. That little kitten inched toward him. She seemed to tell that he was there to help. Dean’s mind wandered to why having a cat might be nice. Though his allergies weren’t acting up to horribly at the moment. Being outside was helping. Carefully she clung to his shoulder. Her claws poking through his jacket at skimming his shoulder with each small movement he made.

    As Dean carefully stepped down the latter, she seemed to gain a growing curiosity, her tiny head brushing his neck as she looked around. It seemed that this little kitty wouldn’t be going that high up anymore. That was a relief at least. By the time his boots hit the ground the kitten wasn’t as velcroed to him as she had started out. The young girl came over as Dean leaned down, picking her kitten from his shoulder.

    “Thank you, mister,” she ducked her head before hugging the larger man.

    “No problem,” he smiled down, patting her back. All the while the kitten was rubbing her head against him with a soft purr. He didn’t think she was half bad either. This was coming from someone who normally didn’t care much for cats.

    The small gathering of neighbors clapped for the hero. None of them had seemed willing to do this. But Dean’s attention had stopped at one specific resident of the neighborhood who must have come out when he was climbing up. The others dispersed, the drama over. This left them alone.

    Dean smiled. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

    “That was quite heroic of you,” his smile lit up those unearthly blue eyes.

    “Oh, it was nothing.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck.

    “Not to her,” Cas motioned to the girl who was dragging a feathered toy in her front yard for the calico. “I don’t think she’d be able to lose another pet so soon, or anyone for that matter. With all that's happened.”  

    Dean hummed. His curiosity peaked, but he knew better than to ask.

    “Her grandmother gave her that kitten after the last cat died. Her funeral was two weeks ago. She was a good woman, nice to have around. Always spoiling the grandkids.” Castiel’s face darkened a little.

    Without thought, Dean reached out. His hand patted the back of Cas’s shoulder in some form of comfort for something he didn’t understand. Maybe one day Cas would let him in on this. Though for now, Dean was alright with being kept out.

    “Hey,” oh God, he was going to do it. He’d been wanting to do this for a while. He just never had the chance 'till this moment. “W-would you like to have lunch sometime?” There, there it was. It was out there. Now Dean could officially go die in a hole.

    At the very least, this efficiently jerked Cas out of the small stupor. “Lunch?”

    “Yeah. We already have coffee together every Sunday. What could some lunch hurt?” Dean held the feeling of swallowing his own tongue at bay.

“Here,” he unlocked his phone and handed it to Cas. “Put in your number just in case something comes up.”

    “Like what?”

    “I might get called in. Dunno if you can tell, but I work for the Fire Department.”

    “I don’t think I could forget, with how often you mention it.” Cas grinned. It caused Dean’s heart to soar. With how stupid that sounded, it was true.

    “How about next Friday, the 26th?”

    The corners of Cas’s eyes scrunched as his smile widened. Dean was lost for a moment. In the rolling tides of emotion that lay in those too blue irises. A wanderer at sea without a map. He might never want to find land again anyway.

    “Yes,” the waves were casting gently inland with a little hint of foam. Bright with the sun skimming off the water without a single cloud in the sky. Dean could stay there for a while, if not forever.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tidbit shorter (but still over 1,000 words at least).
> 
> hope y'all enjoy as always!

**_September 18, 2014_ **

 

He was an idiot. He was a huge, fucking idiot. Dean had been telling himself that he wouldn’t miss another chance. And what did he do? He missed the opening to a big one.

    Then again he didn’t know whether Cas was taken or not. It would make sense if he was. But, where was this partner in question? Surely Dean would have met them by now.

    Dean’s thoughts were interrupted as Sam sauntered through the door. A moose of a man with a grin that meant he was up to no good, always lead to trouble. Dean silently watched him and wondered why he ever gave Sam a key to his and Charlie’s home. He was entertaining the idea of stealing it back somehow.

    Sam had left. Behind him, he abandoned the mess he tore up along with his brother. So why was he suddenly wanted to get all up into Dean’s space now? Obviously, Sam couldn’t quite see the hypocrisy in it all.  

   Or, that had been Sam 9 years ago. Was he still like that? Was there a point between A and B where Sam had abandoned him again?

    The only thing Dean was sure of at the moment, was that all this thinking was making his head hurt. He loved his brother, but he didn’t know if he should trust him, or not even touch him with a 10-foot-pole. This wasn’t a new debate. Dean’s conscious had been at war with itself over this since he woke up. What irks him the most is that this should be easy. This should be an _easy_ debate. It’s Sammy, why not trust him? _It’s Sammy_. Somehow that just wasn’t enough.

    Dean shook his head and looked away from the tv screen he really hadn’t been paying attention to.

    “What’s up Sammy?” Play it cool. Maybe, just maybe, Sam wouldn’t notice the second of hesitation in his older brother’s voice.

    The grin Sam had been sporting wavered. It turned shy. “Um… C-Charlie was talking to me about one of her friends. She thinks you should meet him. I mean, you don’t have to. But we can get something planned for next Friday. You have the day off then, right?”

    Another point. Sam -at least the one he remembered- never seemed to remember his work schedule. Especially a week in advance. Dean stood from the couch, finger poised on the remote’s off button. “Already have plans.”

    “Well I’m sure you’re gonna like- wait what?”

    Dean lowered his arm. The news was forgotten about once more. “I already got plans for Friday.” He turned a little to look at his brother better. “I am allowed to have a life too ya know.”

    Sam stood dumbfounded for several moments. Those puppy eyes nearly distracted Dean long enough. In all honesty, the kid looked like he could cry. The next words that spilled from his lips were near complete gibberish. Full of broken ‘what’s, ‘huh’s, and ‘uh’.

    Before his little brother could get his wits about him, Dean rose his free hand. “Yeah, shocking I get it. You can shut up anytime.” He set the remote down and padded to the fridge. “Like I said, I already have plans.” He pushed a few things out of the way as he reached for a beer that was suspiciously hidden in the back. “I’m sure Charlie’s friend is great an’ all, but… I think I may be interested in this guy.” _Wait for it._

“What!” Sam burst. _And there it was._

Dean popped the cap of his beer while leaning on the counter. “Yep.”

    “What?” Sam’s jaw hung open.

    “Yeah,” he took a hefty gulp.

    “ _What?_ ”

    “Sam?”

     _“What?”_

    “I wasn’t kidding when I said you can shut up anytime now. Also wasn’t kidding when I said I’m allowed to have a life. Not everyone gets to be a big shot Stanford graduate. We little guys are still allowed to do stuff.” He had probably overstepped some sort of boundary he hadn’t known was there, but he felt like this was needed.

    Sam immediately stopped the questioning. Those puppy eyes of his returning with a vengeance.

    “Dean-”

    The eldest had his beer halfway to his lips. His hand paused as his attention was zones back onto the tv. He shushed his brother.

    Sam shook his head, his dark mane bouncing back with the movements. “No, Dean -”

    Dean pushed off the counter while raising his hand. “ _Sam_.”

He walked up to the couch, holding on tightly to the back.

 

 _“In other news, Yesterday in Lebanon, one of the older apartment buildings caught flame and burnt down.”_ The news reporter stood in front of what Dean could only guess was the remains. Caution tape bordered off the ash and rubble. While she tucked her red hair behind her ear.

 _“Luckily no one was seriously injured, and only a few families lived here.”_ She droned on for a bit longer before turning to one of the firemen on scene.

     _“We all knew it would happen. It was just a matter of time. That’s why a new apartment complex was being constructed, and additions to existing ones. It just a relief that everyone will be able to recover.”_

 

Dean felt Sam’s shoulder brush his own.

     “Do you think…?”

     “Without a doubt.”

    Sam nodded slowly. His Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. All the while, every hair on the back of Dean’s neck stood on end. Hopefully, they’d tag this bastard soon.

 

Just as that thought crossed his mind, the new kept rolling. People sitting behind the long table at their station.

     _“Meanwhile a suspect has been taken in for the warehouse fire that nearly took down a workplace in Lawrence nearly six months ago.”_ A picture of one person Dean knew well popped onto the screen. This time it was Dean who swallowed. _“A man by the name of Alistair has been taken in for questioning. He was found near the apartments in Lebanon at the time of the fire, and lighter fluid residue on him.”_

 

Suddenly their words became distant. Something was just unsettling about all of this. Though, could it really be over? Could the bastard have been caught this easily? That pit in Dean’s gut churned, but he still hoped within hope, that this was it. This was the end.

....

 

**_September 26, 2014_ **

 

Castiel took a deep breath, combing his hair back with his fingers. He had been so jittery that he had shown up nearly half an hour early. The previous week’s news swimming around his mind. One of his students had walked into his office and set their phone on his desk to show him it. Cas’s foot bounced erratically at the thought of Dean. How did he feel about that?

    Could it have triggered something? Did he have a reaction much like the ones he had in the hospital?

    “Castiel quit thinking, I can hear it all the way from here,” Ellen called from behind the bar. “You might hurt yourself.” She glanced up from drying the glass in her hands. Jo crossed her arms and leaned on the bar, studying the professor.

    “If it’s your pretty you’re worried about, don’t. It’s Dean. He wouldn’t pass up a date with you whether he remembered you or not.”

    “Joanna Beth,” Ellen snapped as Cas winced.

    “Oh, sorry. But you get what I mean, right?”

    “I think so,”Cas spoke hesitantly.

    “Jo, you still have things to clean up in the _kitchen_ .” This was a classic of Ellen’s: _Get out before I put my boot up your ass. Go do something productive._ Cas had been on the receiving end of one of these minimal word threats several times before.

    “Alright, alright. I’m goin’.” But Jo paused. “Hey, Cas?”

    “Yes, Jo?”

    “Knock ‘em dead.”

    “Preferably not.”

    Jo let out a ragged sigh. “You’re no fun, you know that?”

    Cas traced his finger around the rim of his water glass. “Heard that before.”

 

Of some of the most surprising things that have happened since Dean, was well, Dean. That confession of why he chose to stick with being a fireman had happened in a lot shorter amount of time of Dean knowing him than the first time. It was also much, much more detailed than the first version Dean had told him. Cas silently wondered if this would continue. That Dean might open up about things a lot swifter. That he’d give Cas the details that were simply too painful the first time around.

    He caught those green eyes as Dean turned from greeting Ellen. He strode to the booth Cas had picked for them.

    “You know I was supposed to show before you, right?” Dean was early too.

    “Well aware,” Cas smiled.

    Dean downright laughed. His palm hit the table as he sat in amusement. “There you go making me look bad.”

    “That was not my intention.”

    “That’s really hard to tell right now.” There was this old shine of mischief that sparkled in those green irises.

    

Cas leaned back while Dean grinned. Ellen had already supplied him with a water glass and was undoubtedly having the cook work on their order. Dean initiated the small talk. He’d go on about Sam or work here and there. Cas would find himself thinking of all of this for a moment. That maybe this fresh start wasn’t so bad. This was their chance. It had to be. And just maybe, this was their chance to forget those scars that Dean had always tried to cover up.

 

Maybe, this was their chance to heal together.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as I wrote this chapter, I had a couple other SPN stories open that I was reading on Ao3. I clicked back into the document of this one for a second and started reading over. I go: WHOA that escalated, what story is this again? Oh. This is the one I wrote. Well shit...
> 
> So, fair warning, shit gets intense

**_December 30, 2014_ **

 

Days toppled over as if they were dominoes that had been carefully lined up. All this time spend to place in the exact specific position. And it would all fall down with just a puny gust of wind.

    The Sam problem was turning into more of a nightmare. It’s hard to focus with a mountain of a man breathing down his neck. Dean was a ticking time bomb when it came to his little brother. When it came to Charlie, he was fine. She knew when to back off. She knew his moods just a tad better than Sam. This is why Dean roomed with her.

    He found breaks from his brother involved work, sleeping, Adam, and Cas. Adam seemed to be fitting in well under Jody. This didn’t stop Kate’s constant fretting, but the kid was doing his best.

    Even though Christmas had been five days ago, Dean was still in a bad mood over some of the events that had taken place over the holiday. He could have kissed Rufus when the Chief told him he had the next couple days off, no arguments. Dean wouldn’t have even thought of doing so. Baby was well taken care of on fluids, but he himself was running on fumes.

    Dean glanced at himself in the mirror. His body riddled with scars that were foreign to him. Then there was the tattoo. It had taken him a while before he found it, though after he was released from the hospital, he wasn’t real crazy about finding every little nick and scratch. The fleshy red color still puzzled him. It looked like a scar. As if the very handprint the ink depicted was burned into his shoulder. Seared into his very soul. Dean’s fingers skimmed over the strange thing. Of everything he hated about seeing all the scars -new and old- this didn’t bother him as much. It was weird, and he’d deny how it peaked his curiosity. What was the story behind it? Its meaning?

    As much as the damn thing could calm him most the time, it sure frustrated the hell out of him. It wasn’t his. No, it couldn’t be. The palm was smaller, fingers slimmer. More delicate seeming. More attentive to detail. Though the ink was faded. It had been for a while.

    Dean placed his own palm over it. In the depths of his mind, laughter stirred. He tried to focus on it. Close his eyes and concentrate.

     _Laughter. Something wet. Splash of color- paint. It was paint. He could smell it now. The sharp yet pleasing tang of acrylic. His name. Then the hand- covered in paint- rested on his shoulder. The voice again. Dean. It was a purr. Dean. The tone itched at his memory. Dean-_

“Hey, Dean!”

“Fuck!” Dean growled, slamming his fist on the bathroom counter. He was _so close_. A bead of sweat trailed down to his eyebrow. He still needed to dry his hair. Flickers of white and more sweat beaded on his brow warning him of the oncoming migraine.

     _Isn’t that just great?_ Dean groaned. _Dammit, Sammy._

 He grabbed the towel, thankful for having already pulled on boxers and shorts. As much as he’d like to get back at his brother, scaring the kid for the rest of his life wasn’t in the books. Treading carefully from the bathroom he made his way down the hall, past the living room, and into the kitchen. Sam stood in the doorway, looking as if he was about to call out again.

    “Head hurts?” Sam questioned when Dean picked up the prescription bottle. After Samantha’s nagging, Dean had brought up the migraines with his doc.

    “Goin’ to.” The towel arrested around his shoulders. The left end flared out over the tattoo. Dean wasn’t sure about it. Chances were Sam might not even know about it either. He chased the coated pill with water.

    “I really hope you’re going to put more on if you plan on leaving the house anytime soon.”

    “Will do, mother hen.” Speaking of, “don’t you got anyone else to bother?” He was in his own goddamn home, he could go shirtless if he damn well pleased. Except if Charlie was uncomfortable. Then he’d put it back on. She was probably out chasing hens of her own.

    “Oh, just wait up I have an annoying younger brother who’s about to walk through my door and demand that I don’t catch a cold. Need I remind you you’ve been out of the hospital a couple months. I’d like to see you _not_ end back up there.”

    “Adam’s not that annoying. Kid’s got shit to learn still, leave ‘im alone Sam.”

    “That’s beside my point,” Sam rolled his eyes. “Dude, it’s twenty degrees out right now. It's snowing for fuck's sake! Sorry that I care.”

     _Oh, do you now?_ Dean flinched at the thought. He thanked the gods of everything -namely Rock and Roll- that he was facing away from his younger brother. As a distraction, he drained the rest of his water before setting the glass down.

    “Is it?” He padded over to the window, brushing the curtains away. Low and behold, tiny frozen flakes fluttered from the grey sky. “Though we were supposed to get rain?”

    “We were,” Sam crossed his arms. “It just happened to freeze enough before it got here.” Sam stepped closer. “We live in the Midwest, remember? It tends to snow a lot during winter.”

    Dean shrugged, watching the white stack in a slightly thicker blanket on the ground. “Could be living in the Dakotas. Those poor bastards must be getting slammed with powder.”

    “Still in the Midwest, Dean.”

    “Whatever,” Dean batted it off, treading up the stairs to his room. Sam followed. The eldest grabbed the first clean t-shirt that popped into his view. He tossed the towel before pulling the fabric over himself, then going for a button down.

“Waitin’ for a show?” Dean quipped over his shoulder.

    Sam huffed, shutting the door. “You’re impossible.”

    “Good, that means I keep you on your toes.” Dean rummaged through his drawers for a pair of jeans and socks. “Keeps things interesting.”

    “If interesting and frustrating fit in the same category, then yes.” There was a thump on the door. If Dean had to guess, it was Sam’s head.

    “It has to. Or your hair would be a complete clusterfuck all the time.” He paused. “You know I still have those trimming scissors. Give me five minutes and Jess won’t even recognize you.” He had already pulled on his pants, now he just needed to find his belt. Dean scratched his jaw, stubble rough under his fingers.

    “You joke about my hair. Did you know there's a squirrel on your face?” Alright, so Dean has been skipping a shave here and there. Sue him.

    “Don’t worry, your antlers can be a little distracting sometimes, moose.”

    “Shut up.”

    Turns out his belt was half under his bed. “Then don’t insult the squirrel. It might find a chainsaw to hack off those Rapunzel strands of yours.”

    Another groan from the other side. “That's not what I came here to talk to you about.”

   Dean stepped back as he opened the door, watching Sam sprawl to the floor. “Sleepovers? Pillow fights? Hair braiding? Unicorns?” Dean looked down at his younger brother, before stepping over him. “Because if Jess is pregnant, I’ll let her castrate you herself. Or better yet, I’ll sit back with a beer and watch the kid yank that shit from your scalp.”

    “Comforting,” Sam muttered as he sat up.

    “If it’s longer, it’ll be easier to spot the grey hairs,” Dean called as he made his way back down the steps. He could hear Sam scrambling upright to follow him.

    “It's about tomorrow night.” This was what he had been gearing for, Dean knew it. Sam’s tone just confirmed his suspicion.

    “New Year's Eve, yeah what about it?” He wasn’t sure where he was going anymore, just that he had to move. Sam had something up his sleeve, and he didn’t like it.

    “Jess and I were wondering if you’d come over. We might have one or two other people-”

    “Sam, no.” _This_ conversation again. Dean had thought he’d gotten Sam to give it a rest at Thanksgiving.

    “We got a friend we think-”

    “Sam.” His temples were pulsing. Seems he’d get a migraine anyway.

    “It’d be good for you to meet. You’re both going through-”

    “ _Sam!_ ” There was no way in hell Dean would let Sam finish that sentence. His shoulders were shaking, fists white on the counter. “Will you just give it a fucking rest already?

    Sam is too shocked to even take in a breath for several moments. But with Dean staring him down, he sets his jaw. “I’m just trying to help.”

    “How, Sam? By throwing me at strangers? If you can’t tell, I’m _fine_.”

    That struck a chord. It was loud, and vibrating in the younger Winchester’s ears. “Fine. _Fine_? Laying in a hospital bed for five fucking months in a coma… on - on  _life support._ That’s what you call _fine_?” He was actually shaking, pulsing with anger that had been locked away. Anger they had both watered down until this very second when there was no one else to take it out on.

“If you can get your head out of your ass, maybe you’d see that this isn’t just affecting _you_.”

    “Then why don’t you enlighten me? Fucking humor me on these nine years apparently I’m missing here.” They were both far from calm at this point.

    “You know I can’t!”

    “Can’t or won’t?” 

    “Both-”

    “Oh, because my brain will decide to fry itself before you’re halfway through? So then how’s this ‘friend’ supposed to help me if you can’t?”

   Sam fumed, trying to come up with the words. Trying to not shout words that were obviously on the edge of his tongue. 

    Apparently, he was silent for too long. “Sam knows best, doesn’t he? Graduated at the top of your class, didn’t you? Makes you smarter than me. So that must be why it’s all of a sudden ‘Sammy knows best.’ Right?”

    “At least I’m trying.” Sam ground out.

    “Trying,” the laugh escaping his mouth tasted just as bitter as it sounded. “No, you’re pushing. I really don’t give a shit what some doctor - or some goddamn  _shrink_ told you... I'm pretty sure I have  _my own life_ handled. I certainly don’t need my  _baby_ brother stickin’ his nose in it. There’s a fine line between caring and smothering Samuel.”

    “Then what are you gonna do, Dean? You gonna stand there like the old man, tell me if I walk out that door to not come back? If I’m gone stay gone?”

    That was it. The gates of hell had burst open. All those demons poking around inside of Dean’s skull were set free. “No, because I know you’ll do it anyway. You’re the one that left in the first place, Sam. Hell, as far as I know, you’re still gone!”

 

Just like that, the gates were closed again.

    Dean still held a dark look as Sam’s shoulders pulled back.

    “You know what?” Sam seethed. He grabbed his jacket, jerking it back on. “Fuck you. Spend the damn holiday alone, whatever. See if I care.” With that he slammed the door, walking out into the cold.

    “That just proved my point,” Dean grumbled to the empty house.

  


**_December 31, 2014_ **

 

He was an idiot. Dean Winchester didn’t like admitting this -or use to. Though this time it was over something that didn’t involve a certain blue-eyed man donning a trench coat. He stared idly at his boots. It was an improvement from this morning. He had just laid back and stared at the ceiling. He hollered back when Charlie called out her goodbye. She and most of the team were on call today, make sure no one lit up their lawn while firing off fireworks. He should have been with them. Dean was the Lieutenant of his shift for crying out loud. He had just as much right to be working as the rest of them. Tonight would be one of those nights that their shift was later on.

    Dean had nowhere to go. Obviously, he could just stay home. But his skin was crawling. He just needed  _out_. He needed away.

    Sam hadn’t attempted to reach out, and neither had he. Dean had mixed emotions concerning their fight the day before. Those feeling that he had just shoved down for far too long was damn deadly ammunition when he was being attacked as well. Sam had needed a reminder that his  _older_ brother could take care of himself. The other stuff…

Ran off or not, Sammy didn’t deserve  _that_.

    Even though he was ultimately confused around the subject of most of his own guilt, Sam was still his brother. Whenever dad had gotten out of line mentioning his younger son, Dean was right there to shut him up. Or, shift the line of fire. Either way, they both needed some time to cool off.

    Enough was enough. Dean stood and left his room. His phone still on the nightstand, though he didn’t quite remember that. He didn’t have much on his mind as he slid his leather jacket onto his shoulders. Fingers reached into the pockets and curled around the cool metal of the Impala’s keys. He needed out. He needed  _away_ , just for the night.

…

 

The tapes that hummed out over the purr of the engine put Dean in a better mood. What lifted it, even more, was the glowing sign of the Roadhouse. A few sections of the lights faded and familiar. An escape he didn’t know how desperately he needed till this very moment.

    Even as he stepped in the buzz of voices wrapped around him. He quickly spotted Ash and Jo behind the bar. Rufus wouldn’t dare go against Ellen by refusing to let those two take the night off. He remembered bussing tables here as his first job, right along with helping Bobby on the weekends. This place, especially right now, felt familiar. Dare he say: felt like home.

    Ellen offered him a smile as he approached the bar.

    “Damn boy, you look like shit.”

    “Thanks for the reminder.” He ran a hand over his face. His fingers were scratched by the slightly-more-than-scruff upon his face.

    “Rough day?”

    “You could say rough year.”

    The smile the older woman offered was almost sad. “Yeah, tell me about it.” Her hand rubbed his shoulder before she turned away. “I’ll grab you a whiskey.”

Before he could say anything she placed the taller glass in his hand. Tonight she wasn’t screwing around. “And if it's one of those nights, I might just have a room in the back when you can’t drive home.” Ellen gave him an eye. One that dared him to defy her.

    Dean rose his hands in surrender. “Just so I don’t start the year off by losing my head, just go ahead and reserve it for one.”

    “Good boy,”

    “More like self-preservation.”

    “Whatever you wanna call it, as long as you ain’t driving home.”

    “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a nod before scanning the booths and tables.

    There were people here and there that he knew. The only thing stopping him from heading over was the fact that they already had someone with them. Reminding him of exactly why he headed to the Roadhouse instead of staying home. With a ragged sigh, he took a hefty gulp of the drink in his hand. If he had been thinking, Dean would have shown up earlier. The coverage of Times Square was on every TV in the bar. With not many choices left, Dean headed for a stool. There was one on the other side, right on the end and under the view of the mounted flat screen.

    He dropped down onto the warn seat, nearly catching sight of the bottom of his glass. Ash slipped by. On his way to refill glasses, he left a beer next to Dean. One hell of a way to say Happy New Year. Glancing down he finds that his whiskey had flooded his glass. Looking up he found Jo wink back at him. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. While shrugging off his jacket, he felt the extra weight in the pockets. His thoughts were redirected to the wallet he had found in the parking lot. Ellen hadn’t given him an opening to hand it over to her. Dean could always send a text out to Jody. She would probably send Adam out to take it back to whomever it belonged to. He hadn’t exactly checked yet.

    “Sorry Winchester,” his head snapped up. Though Ellen didn’t direct those words to him. She was talking to a man who was following her as she did her rounds. Maybe he heard wrong? Yeah, yeah. Dean head wrong. “Nobody turned it in. I’ll ask around. What kind of wallet was it?”

    “Canvas. It’s a dark navy.”

    Ellen’s head was down as she scrawled something on a notepad. “Got it-”

    “You mean like this?” Dean called out. He held it up, catching the two’s eyes.

    “Oh, thank goodness,” that smile, Dean could swear he knew that smile. “I thought someone had taken off with-” the stranger finally looked up.

    “Hey,” Dean grinned.

    Those blue eyes were wide. “H-hey.”

    “You meeting anyone?”

    “No. I don’t have anyone to meet with.”

    “You sure?”

    “I have no one.” Those eyes seemed to sadden. He had to do something about that.

    “Why not stay a while? We can be two lonely saps together.” Dean tossed the wallet onto the length of the bar next to him.

    Cas chuckled, taking a seat. Sad eyes long forgotten. Dean slid the beer over to him. Countdown was in three minutes anyway.

    “Haven’t seen you in a while, how’ve you been?” Dean swirled the liquid in his glass before taking a sip.

    “Surviving,” Cas paused, “you?”

    “Much of the same.” Those blue eyes held a question in them. “Brother of mine kicked my sorry ass to the curb for the night. Probably for the next year.”

    Cas rotated the bottle in his hands. “Maybe you should do something together. One up whoever’s about to lock you both in a room.”

    Dean nearly spat out his drink. Barely managing to swallow without choking. After that, he laughed so hard he had to put his face between his knees. There were actual _tears_ in his eyes.

    “Something wrong with that suggestion.”

    “No,” Dean rubbed his eyes. “Don’t ever change, Cas.”

    “I do not plan to, Dean.”

    “Good. I’ll kick anyone’s ass if they think any different.”

    It may have just been the lighting in the bar, or Castiel was blushing. Dean couldn’t tell since the other man looked away. His right hand went to the cord around his neck. His left lingering on his beer. The countdown started around them. Or, as it seems, had already been going on.

_Six….._

    “Sorry I missed your birthday. Happy belated birthday?”

_Five….._

    “It’s alright, Dean. Happy early birthday.”

_Four…._

Dean swallowed, unable to help the need to stare. Cas wasn’t just good looking, but the man had heart.

_three..._

    He was going to do it. Dean decided now. He was going to confirm his thoughts. One little symbol would tell him everything.

_Two.._

    Though, at the same time, it could mean nothing. His eyes drifted to the fingers wrapped around the beer bottle.

_One._

    There it was. A dull shine underneath the bar’s lights. A wedding band snug on his left ring finger.

     _“Happy New Year!”_ There were cheers around the bar and faintly from the TV.

    Cas had said he was alone. He could be in the middle of a divorce.

    Blue eyes looked to him. “Happy New Year.”

    Spouse deployed. Or -he hated the idea- a widow.

    His smile wasn’t as big as it had been. “Happy New Year.”

_“I have no one.”_

 

Something from deep in his mind wiggled.

_Do you have anybody? Someone, I should call?_

_Don’t got anybody. Not anymore._

 

Dean gritted his teeth as he widened his grin. He clinked glasses with Castiel. To distract themselves they both took a drink. He drained the rest of his, sliding the glass between his hands. Castiel’s other hand still enclosed whatever hung from his neck. He must have not even been aware of doing it. He laughed at something Ellen said.

 

The back of his neck was hot, he found as he rubbed it. Same went for his forehead as he massaged his temples. Suddenly social hour wasn’t very appealing. Cas looked at him with those bright ocean eyes. He couldn’t help but offer a weak curl of his lips in return. Truth was, he should knock off the drinking and go lay down. Ellen, ever vigilant, was probably telling him the same thing. Her hand was comforting but strong on his shoulder.

    The lights were starting to get too bright. Sounds were too loud of a buzz in the background. Cas was frowning. Dean hated that. He offered a small wave, gaining one back. He stood, making his way to the back.

 

    His head was starting to hurt.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking back over this chapter and what else I have planned, ya know, I wonder how y’all are even able to keep reading this. I AM a dick. 
> 
> Forewarning, there is bound to be someone out there that catches a mistake in this chapter. I may or may not have put it there on purpose. (Aka: I was too lazy to rewrite that part, and I liked how it added to the story) So, I’m gonna pull the “I’m the writer” card. ;) 
> 
> Oh, and also…. The end is nigh guys. The end is nigh 
> 
> hope y’all enjoy!

**_February 20, 2015_ **

 

_Do you have anybody? Someone, I should call?_

_Don’t got anybody. Not anymore._

 

_He was all alone. He knew that deep down. No one to help him. There was ash smeared over his hands. Blood too. He smelled like smoke, and could still feel the heat of the flames. He was standing on someone’s doorstep simply because he had nowhere to go. No one to turn to but this one being. Dean couldn’t even see their face. All he could see was the reason why he was here in the first place._

 

_The flames flickered in front of him. The lights from the trucks adding to the burning candle that was an apartment building in front of him. Technically, Dean wasn’t supposed to be on shift. He had heard about the fire and came rushing over. Chief Turner had looked at him as if he was a Godsend. Dean was just the backup he could have been hoping for, shoving turnout gear and an O2 mask at him._

_“Get it on boy, they need us in there.” Nearly everyone else already was._

_“_ Chief! Chief this is bad! _” The radios crackled._

 _This was Dean’s first fire. His first_ real  _fire. His friends, his family, were in that building. Bobby, Benny, Abel, his father. Dean glanced at the ambo teams. Tessa and Charlie stared at him with wide eyes. It was bad. This was really bad._

_Dean pulled the mask over his face before settling the helmet on his head._

_“Let’s get in there, son.” Rufus had a set look. Though Dean could never forget the underlying terror underneath it all._

But then he did.

 _“_ Damnit I need help up here! C’mon Abel, wake up! _"_ _Dean’s blood went cold as he listened to the screams. Bobby. He wasn’t sounding too good._

 _“_ Fuck. I gotta man down on my end too _.”_

_“You take the right, I’ll go left.”_

_No, no, no, no, no. He wanted to go left. He_ needed _, to go left. Something was pulling him that way, while Rufus was pushing him the opposite direction._

_“Go Dean! Now!”_

_Without a word, he was mindlessly nodding. His feet shuffling on the floor as he watched the Chief._

_“Benny!” Dean called as they both spotted the downed firemen. “Shit.”_

_“Oh no,” Benny never sounded like that. He was the calm one. Cool and collected. That can’t be Dean’s job. Not yet, God not yet._

_“Bobby!” Dean was rushing over. He couldn’t give a damn about the falling rubble coming from the giant ass hole above his head._

 

_Bobby’s breath fogged his air mask. What was unsettling, was Abel lying motionless a few feet away. Dean was torn. His uncle, his friend. Bobby was breathing. Abel… he didn’t know._

_Benny made the choice for him. “I got the old man.”_

_Dean was already on his feet as Bobby made a faint sound of protest._

_Mechanically, as if he had done this job for years, Dean radioed in. “Two downed firefighters. Bobby’s breathing.”_

_“Trauma to the back,” Benny called over. Dean relayed that to the waiting paramedics._

_“One head trauma.” The words made their way out of his mouth before he even processed the blood pooled around Abel’s head. His helmet was suspended in the air. Damn this was hung up on the floorboards. The ones still intact, at least._

_“Abel, c’mon.” Dean first shook him. When nothing happened he tried again, only rougher. “Dammit man, c’mon!”_

_Abel’s mask was cracked. There was even a chunk of the screen missing. Dean slipped it from his friend’s face, lowering his ear to Abel’s mouth._

_“_ We got another fireman down. Winchester. _” Rufus._

Don’t got anybody. Not anymore.

_Oh, God. The Chief had gone after his dad. Bobby wasn’t doin’ great, and Abel. Abel wasn’t even fucking breathing. Dean’s heart raced._

_“Fucking hell!” Dean laced his fingers together. He could hear the cracking in Abel’s chest as he started compressions. He could count how many ribs broke under his administrations. It sent an icy feeling up his spine. The blaze was closing in on them._

_“_ Building’s collapsing, you boys get your asses out of there. You’re the last ones! _” Rufus barked. "_ Move it! _”_

_“Dean.”_

_There was blood caked in Abel’s hair._

_“Dean, c’mon brother! We gotta move!” Benny was occupied with lifting Bobby. He didn’t have enough hands to grab him too._

_Abel’s helmet crashed into the floor by his foot._

_“Dean!_ **_Dean_ ** _snap out of it!”_

 _He was still breaking his friend’s ribs. He couldn’t… he_ couldn’t _…_

_Suddenly there was a hand at his collar, hauling him back while a drawer of some kind crashed onto Abel’s unmoving form._

_“No! No!” He couldn’t leave him. Not like this. Dean jerked from Benny’s grip. Not like this._

_Dean grabbed Abel, hauling him onto his shoulders._ Not like this.

     _Sweat rolled down his face and into one eye. He stepped back right as the dresser crashed into the small pool of blood. The room collapsing in on itself._

_Benny kept looking back at him, doing the same for Bobby._

_He didn’t know how, but they both burst through the front door. Into the night air._

 

_Everything came back in that moment. The wailing of sirens. Stretchers were rushing to them. Everything disappeared again. Dean could still feel the heat. The lick of a flame right next to him. Tessa and her partner assessed Bobby. They quickly took his equipment off, rushing him to the boxy vehicle. Another pair of paramedics shook their heads over Abel. Cain… where was Cain?_

_Dean glanced over to the paramedics from his dad’s house. His house. The second one, Dean didn’t remember his name, was pulling the white fabric over the fireman’s body. He knew who it was. He_ **knew** _. Didn’t mean he accepted it._

_Dean blinked, and Charlie was standing next to him. He was shaking. Her hand was once a comfort on his shoulder. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear any other sound over the crackling of fire and muffled screaming over the radio. Sounds that were set on replay within his own mind._

_He was on his knees. The lights bathed the white sheet in blue and red. There was a water bottle in front of his face. Whoever held it -Charlie- unscrewed the cap. She poured some on her hand, lifting it up. The cool liquid dropped into his hair. She repeated this a few more times before just pouring right from the plastic bottle. Water ran down the side of his face, his neck. It stopped for a few beats._

_He was running his hands through his hair. His fingers locking onto the short strands. The second body was covered just like the first. This one was blood staining through the fabric._

_Everything was dark. His eyes were closed. The coolness of the water returned._

Nobody. Not anymore.

     _He wanted Sam. God, how he wanted his brother right this fucking second. But he was gone too._

Dean.

_Dean could taste ash. Red smeared on his gloves. No, his hands. Charlie had taken his gloves off._

Dean, c’mon.

_The water she poured over him -distantly he knew it was to cool his overheated body- was starting to have a salty tang along with the tangible scent of ash and smoke. Ground into his very bones._

Dean, you need to wake up.

_He was standing on that porch. He didn’t have anyone. No one in the world left._

 

    “Dean!”

 

He was shaking. Dean shot up, his hand reaching out. It clamped down on a strong shoulder. Instantly he flinched away from the light threading through the blinds. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but the voice centered him. His head fucking hurt.

    “Shhh, it’s alright Dean. Shhh. Everything's fine, there’s no fire. No one died.” Jody. Jody. Jody.

    He was still shaking as those smaller arms engulfed him. His face damp with sweat. Though, there was a notable burn in his eyes.

    “You’re alright. Everybody’s safe. I gotcha. It’s okay.”

    It was, and it wasn’t. If that wasn’t a complete mindfuck, Dean didn’t know what was.

    His thoughts were reined in quickly before they could get too far. The pounding in his head made nearly everything impossible.

    “Hold on,” there were tender hands on him. One on his hand, the other splaying over the tattoo. They were cold against his overheated skin. Dean leaned into the touch. Almost like water being poured over his head.

“I’ll be right back.”

     _No, no, don’t go. Don’t leave._

    “I’ll be _right_ back.” A kiss on his forehead and the sleeve he had been clutching was gone. He was lowered onto the softness of… a bed? His hand extended into the air. What was going on?

     _Jody?_

    “Careful,” she murmured, lifting him back to a sitting position. She pressed something to his lips. It was an odd shape and tasted chalky and bitter. He didn’t want it. “C’mon Dean, swallow.”

    The damn thing sat on his tongue. He had no other choice because if he tried to spit it out, he’d throw up.

    “There,” the pill was chased down by minuscule sips of chilled water. Then the arms were around him again. He would return the gesture, but his limbs felt heavy. Any tiny movement shot pain to the left side of his skull. Something cold and soft pressed into his face. “C’mon Dean,”

    The world drifted away, but the soft fabric and hands never left. He wasn’t left alone with his thoughts.

 

Slowly the world was coming back. Did Jody’s voice crack? He had to blink hard himself, slumping against the smaller form once more.

    “J-Jody?” Damn his voice sounded horrific.

    “Yeah, Dean. I’m here, I’m right here.” Her arms tightened around him more.

    He was finally able to lift his own, pressing Jody against his chest. “Hey, mom.” He rested his forehead atop her head.

    “Jesus, _Dean_.” Jody breathed.

    “Sorry. I’m sorry.” The roles reversed as Jody let the washcloth slip back into the bowl on the nightstand.

 

_Do you have anybody? Someone, I should call?_

_Don’t got anybody. Not anymore._

 

He no longer shook. Dean knew that voice. He recognized it now.

    Jody pulled back, dragging the heel of her hand across her cheeks.

    Dean felt the need to make a joke, lighten the mood. “Care to tell me why you broke into my house, Sheriff?”

    “Bobby and Rufus were getting worried. Said you weren’t answering your phone. They just wanted to make sure you didn’t just take off like last time.”

     _Last time._ Sam had left for College. Dad took off for a couple days. He held down the fort the best he could, but even that had grown to be too much. Could you blame him?

    “Still didn’t answer my question.” There was another unanswered question. It revolved around the voice in his head that was asking if he had anyone on repeat.

    “Still have the key you gave me. The rest, you could call it a mother’s intuition.” Jody set her head on his broad shoulder. “But _God_ , Dean. I could hear you shouting from the front door.”

She looked up at him with those infinitely caring eyes. “Don’t you dare ever do that again.”

    “I’ll try not to,”

    “I’m serious here, Dean.”

    He sighed, looking down at the Sheriff. “I am too.” He was tired. So much more than the usual of working almost all week, or pulling off 24-hours. His head pounded. His shoulders ached. His heart was heavy. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

    It was silent. The relentless pulsing in his skull was receding. Dean stared blankly at his bedroom walls. It was quiet due to the fact they were the only people in the house. 

    Jody let out a weighted breath. Here came the kicker. “Sam called too.”

    “Good for him.” Dean rubbed at his temples. He could tell Jody was about to give him another headache by somehow politely telling him he was a dick. Not like she wouldn’t be wrong. “Save it, Jody.” Sam could wait for now.

    “Dean-”

    “ _Please_.”

    She took hold of his face, tilting so he could look at her. He could tell she was gauging how to handle his difficult ass. That the tears in his eyes were the deciding factor for her next approach.

    “I’m sorry. We just-” she pulled him to her, laying his heavy head on her shoulder. “We just want to know you’re okay.”

    He hated to be coddled, but sometimes, it felt nice to have a mother worry over him. “I’m always okay,” he mumbled into her uniform. She was just as scared as he was.

    He could feel her gentle smile against his forehead. “Just… talk to us, someone… please?”

    “Alright,” he didn’t have the energy to keep this up. Not anymore.

    “You can’t keep holding it all…” She trailed off, seeming to finally hear his words.

    “Alright.”

    Jody only held onto him tighter. And God, did he need this.

 

**_February 24, 2015_ **

 

Cas was distracted all day. His students had been on him about his behavior much more often. They begged for the old professor back, asking what the ransom would be to find him again. That ransom was something they would never be able to pay. Cas had no more classes for that day, and a wonderful visit from his boss put him on edge. His job wasn’t at stake, but when the University’s president walks into your office to personally tell you to go home, you don’t turn it down.

    Cas still wasn’t able to get New Year’s Eve out of his head. How quickly Dean had shut himself off. That familiar switch that he messed with when things were especially loading onto his shoulders. Now  _that_ had been the Dean he knew. Not this stranger that sat across from him and told him that the smell of campfires reminds him of how he lost his mom. No doubt when he actually had all his memories, it reminded him of so much more.

    It made sense now. How uncomfortable Dean would get at a cookout or bonfire.

    Cas had to sit in his car for several minutes. The garage door closed. He was hidden from the world for however long he deemed fit -aside from being late for work tomorrow. There was an empty spot. A huge distance from where he sat to the door.

 

He hated it. For the love of God, he  _hated_ that he knew more about his husband now that he didn’t have him. That it took  _this_ for Dean to open doors he previously couldn’t. It hurt Castiel down to his very core. How could a soul as bright as Dean, suffer in silence for so long? How could he carry so much?

    Cas couldn’t even fucking shoulder this on his own. If he wasn’t venting to Gabriel, and the rare occasion Sam, he poured his heart out to Missouri.

    So Cas sucked it the hell up right now. He climbed out of his “shit vehicle” as Dean would call it. He wished he was around to still be saying something like that. Half the time Castiel’s own thought made it sound as if his husband was dead. In all rights, the Dean he knew, the Dean he married, was. But his new friend Dean was the same exact man at the same time.

    Cas locked the door to the garage, about to start his way to the house when he was stopped. A neighbor that Dean had always threatened to knock over if she wouldn’t stay the hell away. The unnerving thing about her was, she lived a block away.

    “Hey, Cas!”

    “Hello, Becky,” Cas droned joylessly. He really didn’t have the patience for her today.

    “Alright Mr.Grump, I was just gonna let you know someone had stopped by earlier.” Her ridiculous toy Yorkie yipped up at the taller man. Cas was starting to see why Dean hated that dog so much. “He was asking for Dean.”

    “That’s great.” He so badly wanted to shove this girl away from him and run to the safety of his house. His empty house.

    Becky’s smile dropped. Uncharacteristically she gained a bit of seriousness. “He… kinda gave me the creeps.”

    “That’s a first.” He was fed up with people right about now.

    “Just! Be careful, okay Castiel?” She stepped back, seeming to become nervous. Becky deflated as she took a step back. She cast a wild look around, her mission accomplished. “I’m gonna go now.”

    “Goodbye, Becky.” He mumbled to her retreating form.

    “Good riddance,” the accented voice spat.

    “Balthazar?” Castiel turned to his friend, who coincidentally lived next door.

    “As much as I would like to tell you that what she’s saying is complete rubbish; she has a point.”

    Cas furrowed his eyes

    “Even though you seem to believe I’m your butler, I, being a good friend, actually do as asked every so often.”

    “Balth, cut to it.”

    “You forgot your lunch Cassie, remember? Who the hell do you think came here to get it?”

    “That was you?” Cas really shouldn’t have been surprised. Balth could be an utter douche, but he was loyal.

    “Never mind that. Some stranger was snooping around, asking for Dean. When he might be home, and if this was his address.” Balthazar, the drama queen he was, shuddered. Though Cas could see that he was wary. “He had these nightmare yellow eyes. In all honesty, he was a creep.”

    “What did you tell him?”

    “That I had no clue who the bloody hell he was going on about.”

    “Thank you, Balthazar.” Cas stepped away from his friend, desperately wanting inside the safety of his home. Of his and Dean’s home.

    He had half a mind to call up that fed who was assigned to the arson case. Though, they had caught the maniac already. This had to be completely unrelated. An old friend of his father’s maybe.

    “Funny, now that I think about it, that would be the second person asking for Dean this week.”

    Concern marked Castiel’s face as he turned to his companion. “Who was the first?”

    “I believe a chap by the name of Davies.” Balth paused. “Said he was looking in on the interests of a friend of his.” Balthazar thought for a moment. “You know what? Gabriel mentioned that name this morning on my coffee run. Said Kali didn’t like the way he was asking about her brother-in-law.”

    As if it wasn’t already weird enough to have people walking up to his doorstep to ask for his husband; but the same man inquiring about Dean twice? It made Castiel’s skin crawl.

    In a moment such as this one, Castiel wanted safety. Familiarity. Dean wasn’t here, all he had left was the house.

    He backed up, taking in Balthazar’s wide worried eyes. “Thank you Balth. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

    “Cas-”

    Cas shut the door with a heavy  _thump_. He swallowed in hair as if he was starved for it. The door holding him up as the bout of nausea and dizziness faded.

    Shaky legs carried him to the kitchen counter. Papers lay in a small clump. One, in particular, reminded Cas of the countless voicemails.

 

      _“You sure about this kid Cas?”_

_“Unequivocally.”_

_“His dad-”_

_“Does not matter. The boy needs a home, Dean. I think we could really help him. Besides... Nurture always wins in the end. You certainly are an example of that.”_

_“Oh, I thought you’d go with nature. I mean, these devilishly good looks are thanks to the good ol’ genes.”_

_“You’ve used 'good' twice in that sentence.”_

_“First an art professor, next thing I know you’re gonna be teaching English on the coast of Mexico. Simultaneously running a rescue farm.”_

_“Well, that isn’t too bad of an idea.”_

_“Castiel I swear-”_

Castiel picked up the sheet and let it be hidden underneath the others. The nausea was back. He quickly busied himself afterward. Making a list of several things he needed to get done. More than half would end up involving a call to his brother, or a friend. Tasks that Dean would normally take care of. Things that Dean knew more about than he ever could.

    The next thing Cas knew, he couldn’t catch his breath. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d panicked. He took big gulps of air, his knees pressed to his cheeks as he sat on the couch.

    By the time it subsided, Castiel didn’t have a clue on what had even set him off. Standing, he had to grab ahold of the couch. The living room swam around him. His stomach rolled. Maybe he was starting to come down with something. All the stress taking its toll. It sure as hell took its sweet time.

    Castiel’s brows furrowed as he checked the time. _What the hell?_

He’d been home for over an hour now. He blinked hard, willing the sudden sickness away. He really did need time off. There was an ear-piercing screech coming from the kitchen. _His tea!_

    Cas rushed forward, his legs wobbly once more. His hands weren’t any better as he lifted up the kettle. Simultaneously he knocked the mug off the counter. The kettle joined it directly after. Castiel looked up. His world underwater. Waves splashed in his ears. The oven was still on. Water splashed on the stove. But, the oven was on. He didn’t have a clue why.

    Steam shot up as the water flowed. A burning agony shot up his leg while a cry might have escaped his lips. The wood flooring rose up to meet him. There was a sharp sting. His leg and foot were still tingling. A nagging pain kept a steady pulse along his arm. Everything was still swimming, and he was just so tired. Maybe… maybe it would be easy to let go.

    Let the world go by, just like it was even without Castiel’s permission.

    The tick of a clock. Cry of a siren. The rushing of water in his ears. The sink was dripping, he notices it now. _When did the world go black?_

    Cas had closed his eyes. He slowly came to the conclusion as voices busied themselves outside his home. There was a knock at the door but he was just too damn tired to go and answer. They could stop by tomorrow, couldn’t they?

 

Then suddenly there were hands gripping him.

     _“Got a pulse, but I don’t like it. Are Meg and Tessa almost here?”_ Voices floated around him. _“Hey Cas, buddy. I need you to open your eyes.”_

_Dean._

 

He only saw flashes, hints of green that faded as soon as they came. But it  _was_ Dean. Through and through.

    So naturally, everything was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...... whoops?


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking at my notes, I was averaging how many chapters are left. We’re in single digits -by the way. Though, there is the ever lying possibility that a chapter here or there could be shorter/longer than what I expected. But, what I’m getting at here [mentioned it last chapter]: The END IS IN SIGHT (kinda). Don’t worry yet! One of the things I like doing is writing an epilogue if I didn’t feel satisfied with the last chapter. I have a feeling that there just might be a bonus chapter for shits and giggles instead ;)

**_February 24, 2015_ **

 

Dean leaned on the back of the chair. He watched as Jody sorted through papers stacked on her dest. 

    “C’mon Jody, it's not that bad.” 

    “Last I knew you weren’t talking to each other.” 

    “It was that bad a couple months ago.” 

    “Dean.” 

    “Jody.” 

    “ _ Dean _ .”   
    “ _ Mom _ .” The office was flooded with silence for several beats. “Ye of little faith. I got it handled. Where the rubber hits the road. We’re through the worst.” Dean backed up, heading out. He left the silent  _ I hope  _ hang in the air.

    “I have reason for my doubts.” Jody lifted her head and called after him. 

    “Good to know you have  _ so  _ much faith in me.” His hand rested on the doorknob. “Really, Jody. Sam and I are fine. It's not easy. We’re still on rocky ground, but, we’re trying.” 

    Jody relaxed, hands together resting on the papers. “It’s hard on all of us. What you’re going-” 

    “I  _ know _ ,” Dean bit. He let out a heavy breath before speaking softer. “I know.” He avoided Jody’s stare for several moments.

“I… I gotta go. Rufus will have my ass if I stay any longer.” He pushed open the door, ready to walk out.

    “Hey, Dean?” 

    “Yeah?” He turned back. 

    “Just… be careful, okay?” 

    The smile returned to Dean’s face. “Will do madre.” 

    “And cut it with that crap. You’re making me feel old.” She sounded annoyed, but he could see past it. She loved the Winchester boys like they were her and Bobby’s own. 

    “You can’t keep denying that most of those grey hairs are because of my brother and me.” 

    “Thanks for the remainder.” Of course, Claire and Alex had caused trouble. But nothing compared to any boy with the last name Winchester. 

    Dean couldn’t help but grin as he closed the door to the Sheriff’s office with a soft click. He only took one step from it before Bobby’s gave him a no-nonsense glare from underneath his beat up trucker’s cap. 

    “Settle down Griz. Momma bear already covered it.” Dean snickered at the older man’s eye-roll. 

    “Shouldn’t you be saving someone's cat from a tree?” 

    “Shouldn’t you be saving some poor beat to hell car from falling apart?” Dean walked passed the grizzly to stand next to his little brother’s puny office space within the bullpen. 

    “Idjit,” Bobby breathed. “Think yer cute huh?” 

    “I think I’m adorable,” Dean made a face as he messed with an unknowing Adam’s hair.

    Bobby muttered, “yeah, right.” 

    At the same time, Adam nearly jumped out of his skin with a “Jesus!” 

Poor kid batted his brother’s hand away. “ _ Dean _ .” 

    “Love you too, little bro.” Dean snorted, patting Adam’s shoulder. 

    Several deputies chuckled while the kid tried to straighten out the strands. 

… 

 

It was now after lunch, and the most activity they had gotten was a false alarm, and a toaster fire at the middle school. Several teachers had that one handled before Dean and co. had rolled up. Though it was time-consuming to make sure it wasn’t an electrical fire. It wasn’t. The staff was still trying to figure out if it was just simply an accident or a kid took a prank too far. Great that the school didn’t burn down, but still a waste of time. 

 

Now here Dean is, watching some Spanish soap opera in the lounge area. The end of shift getting even closer. Bobby had stopped in to terrorize everyone and was currently sitting next to Dean. Their entrancement with the show was interrupted by the buzzing of Dean’s phone. With a single glance at the ID, Dean excused himself to the garage. His eyes scrutinized the large rigs as he answered. 

    “Hey, Sammy,” he could hear the response already:  _ It’s Sam. Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old.  _

    Instead, he got:  _ “Hey, Dean. Listen, I tried swinging by the station before I got to work but you weren’t there.”  _

__ “Been busy,” he grunted. 

_ “I wanted to tell you this in person, but I couldn’t wait. Jess has been getting on me about telling you. I’m slammed for the next couple days. But, I’m gonna need your help.”  _

__ “With what? Keep going on like that and you might have to spell it out.” 

_ “Jess said yes.”  _ Sam blurted. 

    “What?” 

_ “She’s had the wedding in mind for a while. We’re bouncing around the idea of having it in November.”  _

_     No, no, no, no, no. Not now.  _ Dean’s heart sank. He liked Jess, hell she’d be good for his baby brother. The brother that he was just starting to get back. 

_ “I’d really like it if you came with us to look at the house we have our eye on. It works out, the firm I’m with wants to expand.”  _

__ If Dean had to guess, California was involved somewhere in there. Sam would leave.  _ Again _ . 

_ “Dean?”  _

__ “I- I gotta go Sam.” Right as he finished the alarms went off. “Shit, I gotta go.” One of the ladies from the office was reciting the address. 

_ “Wait! Dean. Dean-”  _

__ Dean hung up as he recognized the address to be the street Cas lived on. Possible gas leak.  _ Son of a bitch.  _

__ Just then another alarm sounded. A car accident on the interstate that was on the other side of town. Everyone was glancing around at anyone else. 

    “Alright!” Dean boomed. “Benny, Garth, Ash, and Alfie. You’re with me. Cole, you and everyone else head to the accident. Truck 33 is going to need the extra hands. Jo, what’s Tess and Meg’s 20?” 

    “They’re en route to your destination.” 

    “Then you know who to follow.” 

    When Rufus stepped in, everyone looked to the Chief. “You heard him. Get moving!” 

    Dean gave a salute to the other truck as it pulled out of the garage beside 67. Both rigs turned different ways and raced off to their respective emergencies. 

 

Getting to the street was both quick and took an eternity. A raw feeling of anxiety gnawed at Dean’s insides. To shake it off he pulled on his heavy fire jacket as Benny put the rig in park. The moment his boots hit the ground he was in Lieutenant mode. 

    “Alfie,” Dean glanced back before approaching the concerned neighbor. Several others poked their head out from their homes to see the ruckus. The rookie stuck to Dean’s side. 

    “Dean?” The blonde chirped in confusion. He had a job to do, and nearly everyone knew everyone in this town.

    “Lieutenant Dean Winchester, yes.” He extended his hand. 

    “Balthazar,” the man seemed uncertain. 

    Dean nodded. “Ash, you and Garth see if you can shut off the gas. Benny, Meg, Tessa - the hell are they?” He turned his attention back to the man who he assumed called. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” 

    “Cassie, h-he’d been home for a while. I had forgotten to return one of his easels. I was also going to talk to him I knocked right as I heard him collapse. I was unable to get in since the door is locked.” 

    “Do you know of anything that may have been the cause of the leak?” 

    “He’s been complaining about the heating unit  for a little while.” Balthazar seemed to think for a moment. Then his eyes widened. “The hot water heater. Cassie hadn’t been up to date with its upkeep his…” He took a moment. “Significant other normally did that.” 

    Dean had to clamp down on his rolling stomach. “Thank you, sir.” 

    “Ambo is five minutes out tops,” Benny spoke. He approached Dean with his oxygen mask. Alfie looked almost expectant. “Go get your own kid.” 

    Dean picked up his radio. “Ash, what’s goin’ on with the gas?” 

_ “We got some significant readings. Garth and I want to find the source.”  _

__ Dean looked at Balthazar. 

    “Both units are in the basement. The door is in the hallway from the bedrooms.” 

    Dean relayed that. “Let's go, Alfie.” He situated his helmet back onto his head now that he had pulled the mask on. 

 

As the two approached the front door, Dean eyed the mini fire hydrant that sat next to the porch steps. Without thinking he lifted it to find a key. He knocked first.

    Alfie stared at him with wide eyes. “How’d you know it was there.” 

    Dean shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.” With that, he pulled open the front door. “Fire Department! Call out!”  

 

When he spotted the crumpled form on the ground, he froze. Seconds later he snapped back, rushing over. He took in the shattered ceramic and still-steaming water spread over the floor. There were burns up Cas’ right leg and over his food. Not to mention the oozing cut along his forearm. Scrutinizing the area, Dean spotted that the oven was still on. On point to it, and the rookie turned it off. 

    Pulling off his gloves he set his fingers on Castiel’s pulse point. “Got a pulse, but I’m not likin’ it. Are Meg and Tessa almost here?” Benny droned something in response, but Dean was currently distracted by the drifting blue eyes. 

_ “Found the source!”  _ Garth cheered over the radio. 

    Then those blue eyes disappeared. “Hey. Hey Cas, buddy. I need you to open your eyes.” Dean shook his friend’s shoulder gently. “Cas… Cas.  _ Cas _ !” 

    Nothing.  _ Son of a bitch. Damnit!  _

__ He lifted his radio. “Single monoxide poison victim. Burns up his leg and a cut on his arm.” 

_ “Just got here Winchester,”  _ Meg spoke. 

    “C’mon Cas,” Dean patted his cheek. A weak moan bubbled from the man’s throat. An immensely alarming one.  _ Shit, shit, shit.  _ “Victim lost consciousness.” 

_ “Dean get him out of there! Get him out now!”  _ Tessa’s voice flooded his ears frantically. 

“Step back Alfie.” Dean took hold of Castiel’s upper body. “Sorry about this man. Just gotta save your life, then you can bitch at me about this later.” With that Dean pulled Cas over his shoulder. 

     “Whoa,” 

     “Get the door kid,” Dean grunted, adjusting the body he held up. 

...

 

Dean rested his cheek against his fist. His fireman’s coat draped over the chair he sat in. Everything was quiet if he didn’t count the constant beep and rattle of the medical equipment. Castiel still hadn’t regained consciousness, though he was looking a lot better. Twenty minutes ago he was on the floor half-starved for oxygen. Now the mask over his face was helping with that problem. The cut on his arm all sewed up. Burns taken care of. For how bad this had been, it certainly could have been worse. 

 

    “I thought it might be you,” Dean turned to find Michael standing in the doorway. The man looked like a completely different person in a white lab coat and holding a clipboard. “When the nurses told me there was a fireman waiting with my cousin, I knew it had to be you.” 

    Dean gave a wavering smile. Then he let out a sigh. “You guys sure there isn’t anyone that you should call - besides his brother? More siblings, parents? A spouse?” 

    The doctor reflected the sad smile. 

    Dean huffed out another breath. 

    “I can stay with him if you need-” 

    “No.” He calmed, bringing his voice down a few octaves. “No. I’m good. Shift’s over anyway.” Benny had promised to do any paperwork for him. Though Dean should really change out of his turnout gear. 

    Michael nodded minutely. “I’ll leave you be then. Be back in a few minutes. Shouldn’t be long now before Cas wakes.” 

 

Dean watched the doc leave. He waited a few moments. “That  _ stays  _ on, Castiel.” He turned back around, redirecting his friend’s hand away from the mask. “Nearly threw out my shoulder to keep you breathing. Not about to let that change now.” 

    “What happened?” Castiel’s voice was muffled behind the oxygen mask. 

    Dean shook with a humorless chuckle. “You tell me, Cas.” He glared into those blue eyes that he was beyond overjoyed to see open again. Aside from the glassiness caused by the pain meds. 

“Really Cas? You left the goddamn oven on? For how long? C'mon Cas, you're smarter than this.” 

    “I didn’t use it this morning.” Cas slowly sat up with Dean’s help. He did end up pulling the mask off anyway. “But… I did use it last night. I swear I shut it off, Dean.” 

    Dean drug his hands over his face. Then he carded his fingers through his hair. “That plus your heating system and the hot water heater was enough for a hell of a carbon monoxide build up.”  

    Cas’ face dropped.

    “You need to be more careful, Cas.” It came out more bitten off than what he intended, but to hell with it. After that, he asked the question that had been burning a hole in his mind. “Where’s your partner? I’m sure they’d want to know that you’re alright.” 

    Cas played with the thin hospital blanket. “It… it’s complicated.” Cas didn’t meet his eye. The oxygen mask long forgotten. 

    They sat in silence until Dean broke it. He remembered Balthazar mentioning art supplies. “Just wanna make sure you don’t end up like the one crazy dude that cut his ear off. The one that shot himself in the stomach. Painted with a bunch of lines.” 

    “Van Gogh?” 

    “Yeah, that guy.” 

    “I am a strong believer that he didn’t kill himself. It’s a theory, but a lot of things that are ‘fact’ are based on theory.” Cas sat up. “One of the young men he hung around with accidentally shot him, before leaving him for dead. Vincent Van Gogh had his low points, but he was happy before his death. He only said he had hurt himself so the kid wouldn’t get the blame. But the cutting of his ear? There are several speculations about how he could have unintentionally done that. He could have been epileptic and was shaving. A straight razor would have most likely be used in either case.” 

    “This is the same guy that painted The Scream, right?” 

    “That was Edvard Munch, Dean.” 

    “And I’m supposed to know the difference how?” 

    Castiel’s grin had grown so wide. He went to comment back before that pained expression settled over his features once again. “I guess you wouldn’t.” 

    Dean was taken aback. What the hell was that supposed to mean? It didn’t matter. Before Dean could even mutter a sound, Michael was back in the room. 

    “Good to finally see you aware of everything, Cassie. You gave us quite a scare.” 

    Dean glanced at the open door, catching a familiar figure making his way down the hall. His memory of recent nightmares flickered in his mind.  

    “Glad you’re alright, Cas.” Dean grinned, patting the man before standing. “But I should head out.” 

    For that half second that Dean allowed himself to look back, he saw how much Cas wanted to stop him. Wanted him to stay. He swallowed his own wanting if only to trail after his fellow fireman. His mind had been sizzling with the new -or in this case old- information. Something he hadn’t really spoken about. 

    Cain was right where Dean expected him to be. Sitting on one of the benches at the park across from the hospital. Neither spoke for an extended amount of time. Until Dean couldn’t take it anymore. 

     It was actually Cain who spoke first. “You know, It’s been ten years. Still hasn’t gotten any easier without him.” 

    “Did they ever tell you how it happened?” 

    “Not really. We were in the middle of a shift change.” 

    “I remember it.” 

    Cain looked at him surprised. 

    “God, I remember it now. I wasn’t working that night.” Deen sucked in a shaky breath. “Wasn’t supposed to, Dad had taken my first shift. I can remember him patting me on the back as if it was yesterday.  _ ‘Don’t worry sport. You got plenty of time to run into fires.’ _ ” Dean shook his head. 

    “You were called in anyway,” 

    “Yeah. Showed up right when the blast happened. Rufus and I ran in there. Didn’t have a goddamn clue what we were running into.” The silence filled in for a while. Until Dean was able to move on. “Abel… Abel had saved Bobby. Ceiling above their heads gave out the same time that the floor beneath them did too. Out of what I understand, Abel pushed Bobby into that collapse. Hit his head on the way down.” 

     His own fingers itched to rub over the left side of his head. 

    Dean rumbled off a dry chuckle. “I haven’t told anyone that. That I remember the apartment fire that killed my father and friend. Nearly took my uncle with.” 

    Cain kept his icy gaze on Dean. 

    “I remember.” 

    “Thank you,” 

    “Thought you should know.” 

    Cain clapped Dean on the shoulder, letting his hand rest there in support. For who exactly, neither would know. 

  
_ But I remember. I  _ **_remember_ ** _.  _


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tad bit on the shorter side. But I still think this is a good one ;) 
> 
> Oh, and P.S. - I made a cover (two versions even) and try as I might I couldn't f-ing get it in here for the life of me. Uhg... Anybody know an easy way? - I'll have to try again for a future chapter  
> Hope Y'all enjoy!

**_February 28, 2015_ **

 

Dean opened his eyes,  glancing at his alarm clock. The angry digital red glow glared at him. Showing it was a quarter past midnight. He had survived hell week, thank God. He could hear Charlie closing her door. There was a thunk from the other room. Charlie had taken a later shift, she had to be exhausted by now. Said shift would repeat itself again tomorrow, at least just for her. Dean was free. Master had given Dean a sock. Actually, it had been more of a slap to the back of the head - besides the point. He was _free_. Dean has no master (for the weekend). Dean was a free elf (until Monday). And Dean needed to smack Charlie for the Harry Potter Marathon she forced him to watch with her. That was some planning that could wait for the morning.

…

 

By noon, Dean said hell to it all and made breakfast. Charlie emerged from her cave. Her hair was sticking up at odd angles and she still wore her pajamas.

    “And the beast finally decides to join the living.”

    Charlie scoffed. “And somehow you were given the time off.”

    “Sorry that Rufus doesn’t give me a choice. I wish he’d realize that I need to get back to work like everyone else eventually. I just want to work a full shift for a week. Hell, I’d even sign up for a 24 hour.”

    “You know no one at the firehouse would let you right?”

    “Yeah,” Dean signed, scrambling the eggs.

    “I’m one of them.”

    “Oh, C’mon!”

    “Now shut up and give me food.”

    Dean pointed the spatula at her threateningly. “You’re too bossy for your own good.”

    “I have to deal with you and the other guys on shift. Goes with the territory.”

    This made Dean think of Cas. Gabriel had told him that the gas to the house still hadn’t been turned back on. Maybe he did have something to do today after all.

…

 

He had thrown on an old Zeppelin t-shirt and picked up his toolbox before he left the house. This is how he found himself standing on Castiel’s -hauntingly familiar- front porch. Before he could think about it too much, he knocked. Dean heard the footsteps approach. He was nervous for some reason. Before he could dwell on that fact, the door opened.

    “Dean?” Castiel rose a brow, stepping aside. “Why is there a squirrel on your face?”

    Dean laughed, scratching the short beard. “C’mon, it’s been there since before New Years.” He noticed the easel in the living room.

    “It was _not_ that bad on New Years.”

    “Now you sound like my brother.” Dean paused at his own mention of Sam. It had been a while since they’d talked. “You didn’t seem to mind it last time we saw each other.”

    “Dean, last time my judgment was more than a little clouded by pain medication.”

    “True,” Dean chuckled. He spotted a painting or drawing thing hung above the easel. His curiosity peaked at the rabbit depicted within the frame. “What’s that.”

    Cas’s line of sight followed to where Dean pointed. He smiled softly. “ _The Young Hare_ , a Dürer print.”  

    “Dew-who?”

    “Dürer, Albrecht Dürer. An artist from the late 1400’s.”

     _Of course he knew that._

    Now with an almost tangible silence between them, Dean tried to decide what words would make the most sense as to why he was here. With a toolbox.

    Castiel’s grin deflated a little. His expression turned curious, and possibly a little confused.

    “What brought you here, Dean?”

    Then it was an easy decision. _Fuck it_. “You alright with me fixing things for you?”

    Cas sighed. “There's a lot of things that _you_ won’t be able to fix.”

    “I can try.” Dean turned back to his friend. “Do you trust me?”

    “What?” Castiel asked shocked.

    “Do you trust me?”

    “Of course,”

    “Then lead the way to what I can fix.”

    “Dean-”

    “Cas.” That seemed to shut him up.

    “You’re impossible, Dean Winchester.” Cas murmured as he leads the way down the hall.

    “I try,”

    Cas snorted, opening up the door that leads downstairs.

    Dean followed. When they arrived at the two units, Cas leaned against the doorframe of the tiny room. Dean set up what he knew he’d need. “So, an art professor?”  

    Castiel’s mouth had a minuscule curl to them. “For almost seven years now.”

    “Yeah?” Dean started out flushing the water heater before moving onto the heating unit. “Maybe I could talk to the Chief and see if you could have your students do a study of the firehouse or something.”

    “That would be nice,”

    All the while he and Cas kept up a light conversation. Castiel spoke of his students and how he didn’t have as many classes. It had all been working out nicely for himself. Dean sat back on his heels, pretending that he was still working on something.

    “So what made you decide to teach here?”

    Cas brightened. “It was close to home, and my husband was very supportive of it…” His smile faded the moment he mentioned the man.

    Dean tensed up too, packing up his tools. He felt close to overstaying his welcome.

    “How long have you been painting?” Dean questioned while he stood.

    The smile was back again. Though this time, it held years of sadness. “All my life.”

    Dean let his own lips curl in responses. The pair stood, staring at each other for several moments. It seemed all too soon that Dean shook himself. This man, although very attractive and kindhearted, was married. He wasn’t about to be a homewrecker. Not his style.

    “Well,” Dean murmured, walking past Cas to the stairs.

    He wasn’t given a response until they were back upstairs. “Well,” Cas uttered softly, pulling up ahead of him.

    His mind snapped back so quickly as pain spread through his skull. Dean let out a surprised yelp as he dropped his toolbox and his knees buckled.

 

_“It looks worse than it actually is, promise.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Really.”_

 

    “Dean!”

    “No!” He held out a hand while the heel of the other pressed to his forehead. “Don’t, just… I’m okay. I’m _okay_.” He didn’t know if his slight panting made anything at all period convincing. “Just… Just give me a second.” He spent several moments kneeling on the floor huffing. When Dean finally stood again he brushed himself off, trying to offer a joking smile.

    The grin tapered off when his eyes caught hold of a large framed wedding photo. It was hung on the wall conjoining the living room with the kitchen. At this moment, it was all Dean could see. Castiel gave him a weird look, before stepping back quickly from the corner of Dean’s eye.

    

An outside wedding. Trees were on either side of the altar as Castiel stood with his husband. The setting sun shadowed both figures and their joined hands. Though Dean would never miss the second man’s attire. Even though the figure was silhouetted, he couldn’t miss the LFD insignia on the shoulder of the Class A Uniform. Dean’s stomach sank as he took a step forward.

    It all made sense now. _God,_ it made _sense_ . From how quickly Cas would shut down after mentioning his husband. That distant, sad look in his eye whenever Dean spoke of the firehouse. The “ _it's complicated_.”

 

It wasn’t so complicated anymore.

 

    “He was a firefighter.” Dean himself was unsure if it was a question. He already knew the answer. Understanding washed over him. At the emotion Cas must be dragged through each time Dean even opens his mouth. But he had to ask, even though he was sure he knew the answer. If he had to guess, the string around Castiel’s neck held the other wedding band.

“Did a fire take him?”

Though he didn’t want to, didn’t want to see the pain on Cas’s face; Dean turned. His brows creased with his own inner turmoil. He saw what he expected to. Though, he was still unprepared for the glassy look of Castiel’s normally calm ocean eyes. It cut Dean deeply to see the shine of unshed tears.

    His heart shattered with Castiel’s nod.

    Dean’s throat tightened up. Heart sped up, but he had to say it. He _had_ to.

    “I’m sorry.” Came the croak. “God, I’m _so_ sorry.” If it was any other situation, he would have been surprised with the sudden urge to wrap Cas in his arms. That was exactly what he did. Dean stepped forward, pulling Cas into him. Just holding him as the first sobs wracked his smaller frame.

    Castiel buried his face into Dean’s neck. They held onto each other with equal strength.

    Dean rested his own head against Cas’s, rocking him comfortingly. A tear or two may have trailed down his own face. “I’m sorry that I remind you of him. God, I’m sorry.”

 

**_March 2, 2015_ **

 

That day with Cas really opened up Dean’s eyes. He didn’t know how long Castiel had been married, nor how long he had been widowed. He had been thrown to the realization once again: his job was dangerous.

    He brought up with Rufus on having Cas over by the end of the month (hopefully). Dean also decided it was time to use up vacation days. He had a plan up his sleeve on how to make up with Sam. Especially before Bobby followed through with locking them both in the basement until they “made nice” again.

    Dean’s bags were packed, and Jess gave him the thumbs up. After she opened the door.

    “So how long are you stealing him for?” She had called into the law office that Sam worked at. He had some days off that he didn’t know about yet.

    “C’mon Jess, you know you’ll be glad to finally get him out of the house.”

    “Well, you’re not wrong.” Dean tried not to flinch at the first word. He couldn’t help but think about Cas since Saturday. “He should be home anytime now.”

    She handed off the duffle. “Just bring him back in one piece, got it?”

    “No promises.” Dean gave a cheeky smirk.

    “Dean-” Jess wasn’t able to finish. Before she could further her scolding, Sam walked in.

    “Speak of the Devil and he shall come.”

    “Flattering.”

    “Dean?” Sam rose a brow. It seemed like it had been over a week since they had spoken. Dean didn’t blame Sam for his confusion on how his older brother suddenly shows up.  

   

He had a lot of making up to do, and this seemed like a good start.

 

    Dean threw Sam his duffle before walking to the front door. “Get in loser. We’re going on a road trip.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a much-needed vacation, not work. Sam was right beside Dean. Right now Dean had his brother. It was all he ever needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many show quotes XD  
> SO, so many
> 
> P.S. I felt like a freaking ninja writing this chapter, I'm so proud of myself. This is because there are hints right and left of upcoming things (I can't even go into any more detail because Y'all will guess it and it'll spoil everything) 
> 
> I had to hold myself back guys... And I also had to make a few things vaguer... :) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**March 3, 2015**

 

Baby’s engine was purring as Dean cursed her down the interstate. A Skynyrd song drummed quietly from the stereo. Sunlight filtered through the back windshield, warming up the back of his neck. Even after driving around 13 hours straight, Dean wasn’t very tired. All the while Sam’s snores were being drowned out by the radio and the engine. Though, his stomach growling was starting to become a contender too. If Dean remembered correctly, there was a diner after the next turnoff. Maybe he could get Sam to find a motel. He needed a shower, food, and a nap. Not necessarily in that order. He beamed as he recognized the hum of an Asia song. Glancing at his still dead-to-the-world brother, Dean reached for the volume knob.

     _Heat of the Moment_ blasted around the Impala, effectively jolting Sam into an upright position.

    “Rise and shine, Sammy!” Dean called out as Sam frantically turned the volume down.

    “Really?” Sam bitched.

    Dean shrugged with his signature smirk curling his lips. “Diner up ahead. Though maybe you could look us up a motel while we chow down.”

    Sam ran his fingers through long strands of disheveled hair. “Is shaving that squirrel from your face in the agenda?”

    “That hurt. That just plain _hurts_ , Sam.” He gave his brother the side-eye. “One of these days this squirrel on my face is gonna attack you.”

    Sam just rolled his eyes before looking out the window. “Where are we anyway?”

    “About an hour from Colorado state lines.”

    “Jesus! Did you drive all night?”

    Dean kept his eyes on the road. Guilt gurgled in his stomach -or because he was hungry.

    “ _Dean_ ,”

    “Sammy, you aren’t dead yet.”

    “Yeah, _yet_.”

    “Get your panties out of a twist, I would have pulled over.”

    After Sam huffed, Dean turned the music back up. Sam attempted to change the song but was shot down hard.

    “House rules Sammy. Driver picks the music,”

    “Shotgun shuts his cakehole.” They spoke in unison. Dean rose a brow.

    “You’ve said it before,” Sam explained.

    “Okay, whatever.” Dean brushed off, cutting the engine before getting out.

    Dean had a few things nagging his mind that just wouldn’t go away. They were sat down, order just having been set in front of them before he asked it.

    “So how long?” Dean stared into the unending blackness of his coffee. He risked a glance up. “You and Jess.”

    “Oh, uh… Since-”

    “No. No, how long have you been engaged? _Actually_ engaged? Don’t give me any bullshit either. I want the truth. You haven’t done the sharing thing very well lately.”

    “We haven’t been talking lately.”

    “ _Sam_.”

    Sam picked at his eggs with his fork. “Since late February… last year.”

    “And you… you told me?”

    “Yes!” Sam lowered his voice quickly. “Of course I did. You were just too busy for Jess and me to tell you right away.”  

 

_“While I’m talking with you, could we maybe meet up sometime?”_

 

He rubbed at his temples, trying to will away the oncoming ache.

    Dean caught Sam’s worried expression. “I’m fine. Go on.”

    “We finally had an opening on your day off. Jess and I told you over dinner. It’s weird how you can be so overjoyed to have your entire world crashing down around you 24 hours later.”

    “So the next day was when it happened,” Dean concluded.

    “Yeah, Dean. It was.” Sam forgot his fork in favor of massaging the bridge of his nose. Eventually, he just dropped his head in his hands. “Now every time my damn phone rings I can still hear Benny’s voice. _‘Sam, it’s Dean. You need to come to the hospital right now. There’s been an accident.’_ ”

 

_“Cas is he okay? Do you know how bad it is?”_

 

If Dean hadn’t been confused, he sure as hell was now. The longer he tried to think on why exactly Cas would be calling Sam on his condition, the more his head hurt.

    “Dean? _Dean_?” The worry in his brother’s voice snapped him out of it. Dean found his own head in his hands.

    He looked up to find the shine of fear in his brother’s eyes. Something he could have heard in his voice from what felt like forever ago. Something Dean never wanted to witness again.

    Dean sat up straighter, clearing his throat. “C’mon, eat up. My little brother’s getting married. We sure as shit are gonna celebrate.” For some reason, he thought of Castiel.

    “I thought we went on this road trip for guy time?”

    “That too.”

…

 

    “Really? Our first stop is the Four Corners?” Sam looked over Baby’s hood.

    “When in Rome.” Dean shrugged, making his way over to the monument.

    Sam shook his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

    “And I hold the world record. Now stop whining, bitch.”

    “Jerk,” Sam huffed.

Surprisingly the only other people visiting the moment were on their way out. Dean had figured people would be swarming the place. Maybe not. He looked down at the plate he stood on. Deeming he was in four states at one time. Utah, New Mexico, Arizona, and Colorado.  He snapped a picture on his phone. Before he knew it, it was already sent to Castiel.

    “You know, technically you’re still in Colorado. The marker’s off by eighteen hundred feet.”

    Dean glared at Sam. “You call me ridiculous.”

    Just then his phone buzzed. **_Fun fact: the monument is off by about 1,807 feet_ **

**** Dean grumpily typed back. **_Fun fact: my brother said the same thing. You're both know-it-alls_ **

    “You’re both against me,” he grumbled.

    “Both?”

    “Yeah, friend of mine says 1,807 feet.” He didn’t know until that moment how desperately he wanted Cas to be more than just a friend. Though the guy still needed his time. Dean may not be able to bring his husband back, but could at least give him that.

    Dean looked up again to find that look in Sam’s eye. The giant opened his mouth.

    Dean narrowed his eyes. “Say it and I’ll kill you.”

 

**March 5, 2015**

 

Dean tried to discreetly itch at his beard for the umpteenth time. He really should have thought this through. Facial hair and desert heat do not mix well - at least in his experience. The brothers had spent their time in Colorado but now had moved on to Arizona. They hiked up the rocky trail, sightseeing at the top of the Grand Canyon. Dean had to snort at the sign: **OOH AAH POINT.**

That was another photo that somehow ended up being sent to a certain professor back home. The brothers stood next to one another, looking out over the expansive canyon.

    “For a giant hole in the ground, it’s pretty neat.”

    Sam chuckled before hitting Dean in the arm.

    “Bitch,”

    “Jerk.”

    Dean smiled. When he first decided to take this trip, he didn’t know it would be this easy to get along with his little brother again. He’d even go so far as to say that he’d almost forgotten exactly why they had avoided each other. Then he’d remember that they’d eventually have to go home.

    “Remember the last time we were out here?”

    “God, yes. You about gave me a heart attack after you ran off.” Dean shook his head. “Dad wasn’t too happy to find that out either.” He paused, eyes soaking in every detail of the landscape before him. “I remember all those fires that dad was called out to. Majority were started by lightning.”

    Unlike back then, today had a clear sky bearing down on them. No fires that they had to worry about. No flash flooding. It was a much-needed vacation, not work. Sam was right beside Dean. Maybe not for long, but right now Dean had his brother. It was all he ever needed. They moved along to another, less populated spot.

    “Dude look,” Dean elbowed Sam, pointing to the Eagle soaring. It swooped down toward the river, rising back up with its prize.

    “Pardon me,” an accented voice behind them interrupted.

    “What’s up?” Dean quirked a brow, sharing a look with Sam. The man was a little shorter than himself. The scruff around his face made him almost look like a cartoon character came to life. The guy was wearing a dress shirt for crying out loud. Though there was something about his demeanor that just didn’t sit well with Dean.

    “Sam and Dean Winchester, correct?”

    “Depends on who’s asking.” Good, that meant Sam didn’t like the guy any more than Dean did.  

    “Mick Davies,” He extended his hand.

    The brothers just stared.

    “Oh, well. Would you follow me? There are a few things I believe we should discuss.”

    “Right here’s fine,” Dean answered quickly.

    “In private,” Mick tried to plead.

    “Then give us a rundown.”

    Flustered, Mick rolled up his shirt sleeves a little more. “Alright. I work for an agency called Men of Letters. There are several branches of it. For instance the h-”

    “Is this it?” Dean interrupted impatiently. 

    “No, there's plenty more to it. Like I said most of it we need to discuss in private.”

    “The answers still no.”

    “If you’d prefer there is another agent who accompanied me. I wouldn’t recommend Ketch, but if you insist.”

    Sam folded his arms over his chest. “We’re not insisting anything.”

    “Dude, get on with it, or beat it.” Dean did the same, noticing how the new man was becoming uncomfortable. He was outmatched in every sense possible. And he knew that too. 

    “Sorry, sorry. There is a client who has been with our services for years who would like to… how do you say it? Meet up with you.”

    The brothers shared another look. “Who is this ‘client’?”

    “I am not yet at liberty to discuss who unless done in a private, disclosed area. The case is still being closed and we are still trying to keep h- them under wraps.”

    “No thanks,” Dean rumbled, placing a hand on Sam’s arm before they walked off.

    “That was weird,” Sam spoke once they got back to the Impala.

    “Tell me about it.” Dean huffed.

…

 

That afternoon they hauled ass out of Arizona, hoping to put space between the “Men of Letters” and themselves. During that time they managed to come close to Big Bend National Park. Close, by a few hundred miles.

    The Heavens sparkled above their heads where Dean had parked baby where they could camp it out for the night. There was just something about the stars dotting the midnight sky that itched in his brain. Something that once was. So far away to be reached again.

    The cry of a lone coyote carried with the light breeze. Dean’s phone buzzed with a goodnight text from Cas. He answered back before turning it off.

    “So this guy you’re talking to…” Sam left the question open-ended.

    “Just friends.”  _For now, hopefully,_ but the last thing Dean wanted to do was push.

“You don’t have to worry about me so much. It was rough at first after the hospital, but I’m managing.”

    “You’re my brother, I’m never gonna stop worrying about you.”

    “You’re stealing my lines here.” They both chuckled, taking a drink from the beer bottles in hand. After the rumbles tapered off, the seriousness set back in.  “I wanna remember.” The admission was hardly audible. _I wanna know so badly how large this hole is. Of all that I’m missing._ _I want to_ **remember** _._

    “We all want that for you too,” Sam glanced over.

    “Were we… were we like this before? Still not talking?”

    “No, God no.” Sam looked to the sky. “It was as perfect as it could be.”

    Dean nodded, another question beating around inside his head. “So are you and Jess?” He couldn’t finish that sentence. Hell, he didn’t even know if he wanted the answer.  

    “We have a house picked out. It’s worn down and needs work, but I figured that my brother could help with some of that.”

    Now Dean was confused. Did Sam want him to follow them to California? It excited him but he couldn’t do that. The more he thought about that, the more he realized something. That he’d be leaving so much behind. Far  _too_ much. Blue eyes may even fit into that equation.

    “It’s right outside of Lawrence. The firm wants to move, or expand. They wanted me around home, and so did I.”

     _Wait, what?_ Dean’s gaze snapped to Sam.

    “So what do you say? I’d like my best man to help me out with the house.”

    Dean grinned from ear to ear, clicking his bottle with Sam’s.

 

**_March 6, 2015_ **

 

Dean woke to the morning sun shining right into his eye. There was a dull pounding on the side of his head. It wasn’t from a hangover. His own voice echoing in his thoughts.

    He and Sam didn’t even drink that much. Speaking of, the giant was staring down at him from the back seat. Sam’s demeanor was marked with apprehension and unease.

    “Morning sunshine,” he tried to brush it off.

    “You were talking in your sleep.”

    Dean sat up. A phrase of denial sitting on his tongue. He wouldn’t even get to utter a single word.

    “Jody told me about the nightmares. It’s not that hard to tell somethings up after being with you almost constantly for the last 96 hours.”

    Dean huffed. “Alright genius.” He paused.

    Sam rose his brow in a silent ' _go on?'_

 _Fine_. “It was um, a phone call. I was pacing around, phone in hand before someone answered.”

    “Who?”

    Dean glared at his brother. The look softened as he thought it all over. “You, I think.”

    “What else?”

    “That’s it. I woke up after that.” Lies. Complete lies by the skin of his teeth. There was more to it. Much, much more. Enough to make his fingers itch to pick up his phone.

    “Hhmmm,”

    Dean took in the dark circles under his brother’s eyes. “What about you? You don’t look so peachy either. Care to share with the class, Sammy?”

    Sam hesitated. “It's just… I’ve had the dream before.”

    “And?” If Sam could push, he very damn well could too.

    “The first two times it was before the warehouse fire. Each one a little different but had the same aspects.” Sam gulped. “You lying in a hospital bed, tube down your throat breathing for you.” He ran his fingers through his shaggy hair, pulling at it. “I- It's what they say is the worst part.”

    Dean’s brows furrowed. “What’d they say?”

    Sam tried to smile, to brush it off. It made him look all the more torn up. “When you were in the coma, they always came to me. They always tried to discuss an end of life plan.”

    Dean’s eyes widened. “To… take me off life support.”

    Sam didn’t even need to nod. “Especially at the beginning. How many times they had to bring you back.” He sucked in a breath, “it’s just-”

    Dean wrapped a hand around his brother’s arm and squeezed. “I’m right here Sammy. I’m not going anywhere.” He slid over to the wheel, glancing over his shoulder. “But how does a motel sound right now? I can hear a shower calling our names.”

    Mirth shone in Sam’s eyes. “You first, I think people back home can smell you from here.”

   “You’re no better.” Dean snarked back as he turned the key.

…

 

    “I still can’t believe it.”

    Dean glanced up from his eggs. “I swear to God, Sam.”

    There were tears in Sam’s eyes as he tried not to make too much noise as he laughed. “Do I need to call animal control? Your squirrel escaped.”

    “If I knew you’d act like this I would have grown a beard a long time ago.” Sam just couldn’t let the joke go. Not even after Dean had shaved that morning. He had trimmed back down to a comfortable 5 o'clock shadow. Honestly, he was glad he did. The extra facial hair was great in the winter, but damn near disastrous in the heat. He didn’t know how Bobby managed. Though, that stubborn old bastard could do the impossible. Dean’s phone buzzed with another message.

    “Just friends, huh?”

    “Get your panties out of a bunch, it’s only Jody. Oh, and she says howdy.” Dean pocketed the device after he shot a quick response to Jody  _and_ Cas. That part he wouldn't tell Sam. His plate of eggs clean. Sam’s mostly still occupied by the food he was too busy making fun of his brother to eat. “Alright freak of nature, ready to hike?”

    Sam’s eyes grew to the size of the dinner plate in front of him. He stopped laughing completely.

    Revenge, oh sweet revenge is glorious when Dean’s the one holding the keys. To the car, and to heavenly air conditioning.

    When it was obvious that Sam was paying more attention to his food, Dean swallowed one of his headache pills. He silently prayed it’d kick in soon.

…

 

    The boys staggered back into their room an hour past noon. Big Bend was absolutely beautiful. It made Dean wish he could take a permanent vacation and just run around the country with his brother. Though, his mind kept bringing up Castiel.

…

 

    Not wanting to put any thought into what they’d eat for the night, they ended back up in the diner where they had eaten breakfast. Dean was still mulling over a couple more days worth of places they could go before heading on home. His coffee arrived with Sam’s rabbit food, the burger not far behind.

    They were squabbling about food choices when a waitress turned the volume on the TV up.     Dean had muttered something around ‘some of us have to lift heavy things on a daily basis, Sam.’

    It was Sam’s turn to retort, when Dean raised his hand, pointing at the screen. The bottom of the screen gave a location somewhere in Northern Texas.

    Dean’s eyes zeroed in on the reporter. Behind him were large billows of black smoke, consuming the blue skyline. There were even flames that waved up from the treetops. He was either desperate to keep his job, or crazy. “Move outta there you moron,” Dean growled.

    “He to close?” The other waitress asked.

    “Yeah. It’s too dry around there, not enough wet spots. A little wind and that fire can cover that place in minutes.” Dean shook his head. “Back where I’m from, I haven’t had to deal with many brush fires. The few I had were nasty thought.”

    It seemed she was genuinely interested in what he was saying but didn’t say much as the reporter drowned her out.

_“This afternoon, right outside of Dumas, an uninhabited farmhouse caught fire. Before the city fire department was notified, the fire spread. As you can see behind me, the flames are on their way into town. Fire engines from surrounding towns are on their way to help, but Dumas city council is planning for evacuation, and shutting down the city until further notice.”_

 

    “You were planning on running through there on the way home, weren’t you?” Sam didn’t even look back at Dean.

    “Yep.”

Damn. There went those plans. That was when Dean spotted the dark-haired man. He was nicely dressed, almost too much for the Texas heat. Dean was reminded of that Mick guy. He did say he had a partner. Then again, Dean could just be really fucking paranoid.

    “I’ll be right back,” he didn’t even give Sam time to question where he was going. Dean straight up walked out of the diner. He needed air, and he needed it  _yesterday_. His headache was starting to pulse again and it would be a few hours before he’d be able to take anything.

    “A shame, isn’t it?”

    Dean spun around to find the waitress. He didn’t realize how far he’d gone from the diner until now.

    “That’s the third fire I’ve heard about this week.”

    “Third?”

    “Yeah. Oklahoma and Kansas. That’s where the others were.” She shrugged. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think it was that Alistar guy.” Dean shivered at the name. “But thank God he’s locked up.”

    “He’ll be away for a long time.” He rumbled.

    “Life is what I heard.”

    “Good,” Dean hated the bastard. Hated that he had the guts to do what he did and work with the Fire Department. It was sickening. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end when he spotted the guy that had stared at him walk out. There was another one too. A man across the street with sickening yellow eyes.

    Screw whatever plans he had before, Dean had changed his mind. “Thanks, sweetheart for the company, but I think I’m headed.” He walked briskly back to the diner doors, bumping shoulders with the hawk of a man. The hand that he used to fix his tie had a cross tattoo. _Not weird at all_.

    Sam was still staring at the TV when Dean walked back over. He called to the waitress that served them, asking for doggy bags.

    “Sure thing,” she hummed.

    “What’s up?” Sam failed at keeping back his concern.

    “Time to go home, Sam.”

 

Dean didn’t need to utter anything else. He watched his brother take in his tenseness before giving a nod. It felt almost as if they had overstayed their welcome on the open road. They paid and high tailed it out of the small town. Yeah, it was long past the time to go home.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually got this chapter done ahead of when I thought I would. I may or may not be too excited to keep it to myself until Wednesday... so, updating a day early... that's not too horrible, is it? 
> 
> Hope Y'all enjoy the chapter! ;)

**_March 25, 2015_ **

 

Back at work, and already stuck underneath one of the rigs. Dean grumbled to himself checking the guts of the ambulance. Jo had mentioned that something _had_ to be up. The ambo just hadn’t been acting right. Sure, whatever. Jo knew a great deal about cars. For one, Dean had taught her basic upkeep of the ambulance decades ago. If the engine and anything under the hood weren't doing what they were supposed to, then why wasn’t she under it?

    He found out quickly the moment oil started to drain out. Most of it splattered onto his face and already warn shirt. Well, why he was at it, an oil change was suddenly at the top of his to-do list.

    Dean grunted his way through the task. Once he stood back up, he hugged both paramedics, oil, sweat, grease,  -the good stuff- and all. It was _glorious_ payback.

    “Whoops. Didn’t notice,” he grinned.

    Charlie glared back at Jo. “Really? I wasn’t apart of that.”

    “Guilty by association,” Dean muttered as he started messing around under the hood. While he was replacing fluids, he might as well replenish the antifreeze. He was in the middle of doing so when he heard the voice.

 

    “Hello, Dean.”

    “Cas!” Dean yelped as he smacked his head on the hood. His eyes widened as he took in his own oil and grease smeared appearance. Well shit. He looked around to find a few students already spread around the garage with sketchbooks.“How long have you been here?”

    “Long enough,” Cas grinned, turning the sketchbook in his hands. Dean didn’t even know he had it until that moment. Until his own grease-smeared face was right there in front of him. God, he needed a shower.

    “You check in with Rufus?” Dean mindlessly asked. He rubbed the base of his neck, eyes roving over every little detail of the sketch.

    Cas only chuckled. “Yes, he welcomed the students with open arms.”

    Dean snapped back to reality. “What?”

    Castiel burst out laughing, closing the book. “I had to be sure you were still here.”

     _Oh, that little…_ Dean’s thoughts halted. It was a perfect way to describe Cas. Perfectly familiar. _Shit. That little shit._

Snapping out of it he slunk off to go shower.

 

Cas and his students were still there -obviously- when he got out. Dean had on a fresh FD shirt on. Not a single smudge of grease anywhere as he dried his hair off. He was about to pester Cas when a trucker’s cap caught his eyes.

    “Hey, Bobby.” He looked down at the older man as he walked up.

    “Dean,” came the gruff greeting.

    “What, Jody send you over here?”

    “Yeah, thought I could get more done here.”

    “Quite the retirement you have going for ya.”

    “Christ I know.”

    “Does Jody have her hands full?”

    “Oh hell yes.” Bobby lifted his hat to scratch his head. “Damn Walker kid has been stirring up a few things. Couple others too.” He huffed. “The poor woman can’t catch a break.”

    “Times change I guess.”

    “Amen to that.” It was silent for a few beats before Bobby eyed Dean. “You’re too clean, boy.”

    “No. No.” Dean knew the thought train Bobby just hopped onto. “I _just_ took a shower.”

    “And I got parts that won’ replace themselves.”

    Right then, the alarms went off. _House fire._ “Guess they might have to,” Dean muttered before he jogged up to truck 67. He didn’t know how much he’d missed it until the driver's door smacked shut beside him.

…

 

Dean ran his fingers through sweat-slick hair. It was an exhausting call. People not understanding the golden rule of _not_ using water on oil fires. Dean loved his job, he absolutely did. He hated the people he had to deal with most the time.

    “You comin’ out?” Benny asked. Dean still sat in the fire truck. Everyone else had already moved back to whatever they’d been doing before the call.

    “Maybe,”

    Benny shut the driver's door but didn’t get out. “Y’know, it’s good to have you back.”

    Dean’s lips curled. “It’s good to _be_ back.”

…

There was only one other call. No one died, and that always marked as an exceptional day. With the addition of college students coming in and out the entire shift.

    “This the last class?” Dean stood directly behind Cas.

    The other man jumped where he was seated. Wild eyes looked up. “Y-yes.”

    “You know that was payback, or karma, right?”

    Cas chuckled. “You and Charlie are ridiculous.”

    Dean leaned on the wall. “What kinda shit has she pulled on you?”

    “She’d have something new almost every week. We were college roommates. There was one night she switched my acrylics with homemade paint.”

    “Wow,”

    “But the joke was on her, I ended up getting an A on that assignment.”

    They both jerked with laughter.

    Dean knew then, that there was just something more to Castiel. Something that he might just be able to find out somewhere down the line.

 

**_August 20, 2015_ **

 

Dean smiled and nodded at whatever Cas was talking about. He was going on as if he hadn’t been up all night again. Another nightmare, another sleepless night. It’d been almost a month ago when Dean had suggested that they should ‘do lunch again.’

    That had been going on every weekend. If Dean had been able to see the future, he would have taken the last two off. From just about _everything_. Then again, he was Dean Winchester, he probably would have done it anyway.

    Even with the throb on the left side of his skull, it felt right to be where he was. Sitting across from Castiel Novak while eating lunch. Getting lost in those so blue eyes could make him forget anything.

    So when the mini date came to a close, Dean would utter the same exact thing he’d been saying since they’ve started seeing each other twice a week. He spoke as if he wasn’t holding himself back from stopping Cas from walking away. To make him late for the second half of his day.

    So Dean just smiled. “It was fun. We should do it again sometime.”

    Castiel chuckled as he shook his head. The man seemed as if he was much more comfortable around Dean, and at the very same time, even more haunted.

    “Cas-” Dean took a step to his companion. That was all the further he had gotten before a hand clasped his shoulder.

    “Mr.Winchester,”

     _Oh no. No no no. Not here, not fucking now! Not with Cas here._ The hair on the back of Dean’s neck rose. He turned around, placing himself between Mick and Cas. His own hand gripped on the new man’s arm, but not in a friendly manner.

    “Dude, back the fuck off.” Dean gave Mick a shove for emphasis.

    “Dean…” A squeak came from behind him. “Who is this?”

    He chanced a glance over his shoulder, still holding an arm up as a buffer between himself and Mick. There were flashes of uncertainty and a little hint of fear in Castiel’s eyes. “He’s nobody, Cas.” Dean returned a hard look toward the Brit.

    There weren’t many people at the Roadhouse currently, but those who were had started to take notice of the growing hostility.

    Mick just looked fed up. “Nobody? I have orders to-”

    “I really couldn’t give a damn about your cult.”

    “It is  _not_ a cult. For one I would think you’d very much like to know who has been wanting to talk to you and your brother.”

    Dean patted Cas’s arm. “See you later, Cas.”

    “Dean-”

    He turned placing a hand on both of Castiel’s shoulders. “I know. You’ll be late if you stay any longer. I got this clown handled.” He was, at the least, telling the truth.

    Castiel huffed a defeated sigh at the look in Dean’s eyes. Dean knew then that Cas had seen that this isn’t something Dean wanted him to get mixed up in. “Stop by the house for supper?”

    “You know I will.” Dean watched his friend leave. He turned furiously as soon as Cas walked out the doors.

    “I don’t need to meet with anybody from your little weird book club. You got that? I don’t need you around my family.”

    “The case I spoke to you about has been closed up. Our client has been very insistent that she meets with you. I have orders-”

    “The case had been closed, agent.” Another man steps up. He was taller than Mick, that factor on his side, but still shorter than Dean. Dark facial hair lined his jaw, curving around his mouth in a straight mustache. He was dressed just as well if not better than Mick. His dark eyes made the steel look he gave even more intimidating. “That should mean that your orders don’t pertain to Mr.Winchester or any of those close to him. I advise Mr.Davies, that you take those ‘orders’ elsewhere.”

    Mick’s mouth twitched in a nervous smile, trying to cover up his gulp. “Mr.Henriksen, fancy meeting you here.” He greeted, adjusting his blazer jacket. In Dean’s opinion, it was too hot for a jacket period. “Unlike your end of the trade, we must follow through ‘till the end. It is of utmost importance that the-”

    Henriksen crossed his arms, unimpressed. “To what Mick? To harass people who your clients need to meet with? Now, in my opinion, that’s straight up unprofessional.”

    “Victor, I’m trying to tell the man-”

    Mick’s eyes jumped to behind Dean as he felt a hand grip his shoulder.

    “Trouble here, fellas?” Dean didn’t have to turn around to know it was Cain. He hadn’t even noticed the guy had stopped in. Possibly to pick up something up so his wife didn’t have to cook.

    Then Ellen, who had been fiddling around in the kitchen with people’s orders, made a sudden appearance. The sight of her certainly wasn’t unwelcome. Not to Dean, Cain, or Victor. “Alright, I don’t know what the hell’s going on… but you,” a glare made of ice cut right to Mick. “I want you out of here.”

    “Ma’am-”

    Ellen stepped up. Mick had about half a head taller than her, but damn it was satisfying to see him tremble. “ _Don’t_ make me ask again.”

    Suddenly realizing defeat, Mick gave a curt nod. “Good day.” His walk was long stridden and swift. Tail between his legs.

    “And don’t bother coming back!” Ellen called after him. “You alright?” She entered instant mother-mode the moment her eye’s locked with Dean’s.

    “Yeah. Dude just gives me the creeps.”

    Cain patted his shoulder before stepping away now that the dust had settled.

    She shook her head at the younger man. “If you ain’t looking for the trouble, it sure as hell knows how to find you.”

    “Tell me about it.”

    “If you come around a little more often then maybe I can.”

    “I was talking to Adam about celebrating his first full year of hell sometime next month. We’ll make sure to stop by here.”  

    “You better,” she quipped, walking away. “Or your ass is fried.”

    Victor chuckled from beside him. “She’s got fire.”

    “Hellfire if I didn’t know any better.” He looked over at Victor. “Thanks and all, but do you know that guy?”

    “Not personally. I’m a federal agent, and technically Mick is too. We just work for two different branches. Only had to work with him once or twice. My guys and I wouldn’t touch the Men of Letters with a ten-foot pole.” He offered a small smile. “I was just in town to check up on you and your brother, actually. I was in here grabbing lunch, about to check up on the files they have at that law office he works at on the case.”

    “ _The_ case? As in the Alastair Nomed case?”

    Henriksen offered a curt nod. “I like tying up loose ends.”

    Respectable enough. “Well, thanks again, man.” Dean shook the agent’s hand.

 

He caught Cain walking through the gravel parking lot. His truck parked right next to Baby.

    “Cain, how do you feel about tagging along with us in a couple weeks? Couple people from 67 and Sam will be with us.”

    “What exactly is this ‘celebration’ for?”

    “My kid brother Adam had been a deputy for about a year now. Just wanna pat the kid on the back for surviving this long. In all honesty, it’s just an excuse to drink beer all night and tease him. A night out with the guys.”

    Cain’s chuckle rumbled from deep inside his chest. “Colette has been telling me I need out of the house more often.” He shook his head. “Next month sounds great.”

 

The two laughed together, leaning on the driver’s door of their respective vehicles. One side of Cain’s lips curled up while Dean flashed him the signature shit-eating grin.

 

    Oh, how that party was gonna be one  _hell_ of an escapade.

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He blinked, and the night had changed. The darkness of the twilight looming over them. 
> 
> He blinked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another early post for Y'all in anticipation that next weeks MIGHT be delayed. 
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you like it…?

**_September 13, 2015_ **

 

It was now just a little under 24-hours before a night out with the guys. Of course, Charlie and Jo had been invited, but both declined. Their loss. He’d been itching to come up with a reason to have a night out, surrounded by his friends. Dean was only running off of four hours once again, but he needed this. He needed the distraction from the places that his mind had started wandering to whenever he was alone. Dean was yet to show any sign of all that he’d remembered. A lot of it only filled in a small section in his mind between a large gap. Most didn’t make sense in the timeline he had mapped out in his head. Some just fit uncomfortably well in the events in the life of Dean Winchester.

    Dean leaned back on the couch. The Spanish soap opera playing since nothing else was on. Not even Dr.Sexy. Dean never thought he’d be so glad to have his phone ring. Something to do, something to keep his mind off of other things.

    “Sammy!” Dean greeted.

     _“Hey, Dean.”_ For only being 30, Sam sounded like an overworked mule. _“I’m gonna have to take a raincheck for tomorrow. A big case just came in and I-”_

“Can’t work with a hangover, I know.” Dean finished automatically. He furrowed his brows, not knowing where that came from.

     _“What?”_ Sam perked up.

    “I honestly have no damn clue.”

    Sam’s laugh bubbled through the line. _“I use to tell you that after I moved back.”_

Whatever Dean was about to say was cut off by alarms. “Sorry, Sammy might have to take this. That’s fine, we can do something this weekend.” With a short goodbye, Dean hung up. He rushed off to join the others for a _man down_ call.   

...

 

    Dean glanced at Benny as he backed truck 67 back into her place in the garage. “You still up for tonight?”

    Benny cursed under his breath. “No, uh, shit. I completely forgot about that. No, I’m not gonna be able to make it. Andrea’s folks are comin’ down to visit. Didn’t give us notice 'till this morning.”

    “When they coming?” Dean knew that Benny was still in a tight spot with Andrea’s parents. “Must have thrown a wrench in the plans.” His friend was already planning on proposing sometime during the week.

    “Tonight,” Benny groaned, dragging his hands over his face. “Threw one to all of it.”

    “Damn,” Dean commented as they stepped out of the oversized truck.

    “Tell me about it.” Benny sighed. “I’d like to be out of the hot seat with them if I have any chance for their approval.”

    Dean turned to his friend, clapping his shoulder. “You’re good, man. No big deal.”

…

 

It soon became a deal. It buried under Dean’s skin as more people said they’d had something else come up. Then it started itching real bad. Cole had declined after Dean first asked, his daughter’s had a school function or whatnot. Ash had to cancel since Ellen needed him to lend a hand at the Roadhouse. Jo had the same excuse besides the fact that it had been decidedly dubbed  _guys_ night. Garth was meeting his girlfriend Bess’s family. Dean didn’t know Alfie enough to even ask. Didn’t matter, either way, the kid had plans. Dean didn’t even _want_ to bother Cas, dude probably had to get up at ass o’clock before his classes. It was simply going to go far past Bobby and Rufus’s bedtime, so they were out. Charlie and most of the others mentioned had work in the morning. Technically, the majority of them were still on call during the night.

    That only left Dean, Adam, and Cain. He wasn’t all that comfortable with anyone else from 33. Dean wasn’t looking to either. Not tonight. He promised his little brother a party, so three people would have to do.

So they kicked off their ‘party’ the moment the sun went down. The night air cooled off the semi-humid evening perfectly. Stars twinkled in the dusk sky without a single cloud to block their lights. Not many people drove by the three as they started their walk through town. The weather was just too nice to ignore. Not with the probability that fall would be cut short again. It being a Sunday night, meant that they would nearly have the Roadhouse to themselves. Ellen said if it were to get too wild, she’d lock them in the back room so they wouldn’t get any funny ideas. Mostly to make sure they would definitely not drive home.  

    Dean smacked his lips. He’d been so distracted by the last call of his shift and putting together a few plans he hadn’t stopped for a drink. Brushing it off he figured he’d be fine. Besides the fact he had forgotten about that until this moment. He’d have something to suck down soon, it wasn’t very concerning right this second.

    Soon the trio was passing by the closed doors of Sip of Heaven. Gabriel muttered things to himself as he scraped at the walls in the ally. Dean didn’t even know the shorter man was there until he bumped into him.

    “Hey!” Instantly he cooled at the sight of Dean. “Oh, thought you were one of those kids again.”

    “Kid, sure,” Dean smirked.

    “A giant one,” Cain commented.

    “Watch it,” Dean shot right back.

    Adam pointedly stayed quiet in hopes to not be involved.

    “You got a long night ahead?” Gabe raised a brow. Something flashed in his eyes that could spell trouble. Dean’s stomach twisted, but he didn’t know exactly the extent of the meaning.

    “Yeah,” Adam spoke now. “Would we be able to get a few after-hours beverages?”

    “Beverages,” Dean snorted.

    Gabriel set the soap-water bucket down, drying his hands off with the towel he had slung over a shoulder. “I suppose so. Kali wouldn’t be too upset with just three.”

    The barista had something up his sleeve, yet Dean didn’t know exactly what. Gabe opened the doors, allowing the three in after him.

    “What can I make ya’?”

    Dean rolled his eyes at Adam’s order. “I’ll take a Milk and Cookies.”

    The kid was a Sheriff’s Deputy for crying out loud and he was still ordering that instead of coffee. Cain looked questionably to Adam, but Gabe only smiled.

    “You know, I created that drink specifically for my own little brother.”

    A corner of Dean’s mouth curled. A wave of understanding flooded him. He didn’t know why, but he wasn’t about to question it.

    The next thing he knew, Gabe had slid three foam thermos cups to them. They thanked the owner, paid, and went back to their walk. Adam and Cain bring the cups for the first sip. So, naturally, Dean followed suit. Only, Cain and Adam were able to take that first drink. Hell, Adam started chugging his after taking off the lid. A little bit of milk dripped down his chin. While Dean tried not to drop his coffee as liquid fire splashed his tongue.

    “Son of a _bitch_!” He spat the offending substance from his mouth. Dean now knew why Gabriel was smiling. In the distance, he could hear snickering. “Laugh it up you son of a bitch!” Dean turned back to shout it down the street.

    Cain was chuckling, pushing him along.  “We’ll get him back some other time.” With that, he turned Dean around before he ran into something.

    All the while Dean muttered incoherent sounds under his breath that may just resemble a form of English. His taste buds searing. “Damn,” he muttered.

    Adam grinned with a satisfied sigh. No doubt his cup empty. It was a dead giveaway when he threw it into the nearest trash can and turned that amused look onto his older brother.

    “Oh, laugh it up pipsqueak. At least I had a _real_ drink.” Dean pulled Adam to him commencing a punishing dutch rub with his free hand.

    “Hey, Dean! _Dean_!” The younger man tried to bat his sibling’s hand away. When Dean actually backed off he massaged the top of his head, trying to straighten the mussed strands.  “Have you ever tried it?”

    “No, and don’t plan to.”

    “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

    “I’m not trying it, and I sure as hell will knock it.” Dean playfully pushed Adam ahead of him as he looked to their other companion. “Cain?”

    “I had it once at Colette’s insistence.”

    “And?” The brothers questioned in unison.

    “It was alright. But definitely not something I’d order often.”

    Dean scoffed as he tried his coffee once again. They’d been walking for a while now, it should be reasonably cooled off. They were close to their destination, walking through a rocky -and empty- parking lot. He was only able to taste a little bit, and it was cold.

 

The first shot rang out, followed by a cry of pain. Dean instantly dropped his coffee as his baby brother grabbed his upper arm.

    “Adam? Adam!” He took hold of the young man’s shoulders, eyes wide, searching the area where the shot came from right as the next set rang out. Four sharp staccato pops that cracked the air like thunder. Something punctured Dean’s arm. Though his attention quickly switched back to Adam as he yelped once more. His knees folding under him.

    “Adam!” He couldn’t recognize his own voice.

    “Dean!” Cain’s voice roared over the crash of bullets hitting the night air.

    Suddenly Dean was forced off his feet. He groaned in pain the moment his arm made contact with concrete. He could feel dirt clumps and bits of rock ground into whatever kind of cut he had. Moments later, the full weight of Cain bore down on him.

    Dean’s cold coffee was puddled over the pavement not far away. He caught the world in snatches. Adam writhing just out of arm's length. Cain atop him, unmoving. Pain. Searing, white-hot pain. The dark figure bolting away. A figure that somehow Dean’s muddled mind recognized.

Gordon. Gordon Walker.

 

_Do you have anybody? Someone, I should call?_

_Don’t got anybody. Not anymore._

 

He had no goddamn clue what was going on anymore. He blinked, and the night had changed. The darkness of the twilight looming over them. Stars no longer shined so brightly.

    Cain wasn’t moving. Dean was stuck underneath his crushing weight. Adam… Adam wasn’t doing so well. The night sky blurred out, greying.

 

 _“_ Dammit, I need help up here! C’mon Abel, wake up! _” Dean’s blood went cold as he listened to the screams from the radio. Bobby. He wasn’t sounding too good._

     _His feet took him to where he needed to go. Bobby’s breath fogged his air mask. What was unsettling, was Abel lying motionless a few feet away. Dean was torn. His uncle, his friend. Bobby was breathing. Abel… he didn’t know._

_Blood pooled around Abel’s head. His helmet was suspended in the air. Damn this was hung up on the floorboards. The ones still intact, at least._

 

_He was all alone. He knew that deep down. No one to help him. There was ash smeared over his hands. Blood too. He smelled like smoke, and could still feel the heat of the flames. He was standing on someone’s doorstep simply because he had nowhere to go. No one to turn to but this one being. Dean couldn’t even see their face. All he could see was the reason why he was here in the first place._

_“Abel, c’mon.” Dean first shook him. When nothing happened he tried again, only rougher. “Dammit man, c’mon!”_

_Abel’s mask was cracked. There was even a chunk of the screen missing. Dean slipped it from his friend’s face, lowering his ear to Abel’s mouth._

Don’t got anybody. Not anymore.

_Oh, God. The Chief had gone after his dad. Bobby wasn’t doin’ great, and Abel. Abel wasn’t even fucking breathing. Dean’s heart raced._

_“Fucking hell!” Dean laced his fingers together. He could hear the cracking in Abel’s chest as he started compressions. He could count how many ribs broke under his administrations. It sent an icy feeling up his spine. The blaze was closing in on them. Heat curled all around them._

_There was blood caked in Abel’s hair._

_“Dean, c’mon brother! We gotta move!” Benny cried._

_Abel’s helmet crashed into the floor by his foot._

_“Dean!_ **_Dean_ ** _snap out of it!”_

 _He was still breaking his friend’s ribs. He couldn’t… he_ couldn’t _…_

_Suddenly there was a hand at his collar, pulling him away._

_“No! No!” He couldn’t leave him. Not like this. Dean jerked from the grip. Not like this._

_Dean grabbed Abel, hauling him onto his shoulders._ Not like this.

  

Dean pushed the weight from on top of him. The ability to breathe came in short rapid bursts. He sat up to find two bleeding forms on either side. Pain pulsed through his upper arm, and he didn’t know how it got there. He didn’t really remember much from the last couple moments. His fingers started working well before his mind even processed the sight in front of him.

    Dean pressed a hand to one of the wounds on Adam’s chest, pulling his little brother to him. Adam cried out, tears running down his now dusty face. There was blood up and down Dean’s arms, no doubt patching his face. He glanced over to Cain’s motionless form and saw Abel.

 

 _“Dean!_ **_Dean_ ** _snap out of it!”_

 _Abel’s body being draped with a sheet. Charlie trying to resuscitate his own father. Paramedics sharking their heads. Abel and Dad were dead. Flashing lights. Pain._ So  _much pain._

 

    “It’s okay…” He breathed, taking off his plaid overshirt and placing it around Adam. “It’s okay, I got you,” Dean whispered. The boy, no, man. The man beneath him whimpered as Dean applied pressure to the wounds. There was  _so much_ blood. “It’s okay…”

    “Dean…” Adam exhaled.

    “I’m right here.” Dean breathed. “I'm right here, it's okay... I’m right here baby brother.” He pulled Adam to him more, keeping the pressure upWhat do you say… after this, I can buy you Milk and Cookies all you want.” His cheeks were wet, vision blurred. For once Dean Winchester didn’t notice his own tears. He didn’t care about them. He couldn’t even feel his own pain. “I’ll even try it with you. Okay? That sound good?”  

    “De-” Adam’s voice cracked.

    Dean held onto his youngest brother impossibly tighter. “I’ll get you anything you want.”

    He blinked, and Adam had closed his eyes.

 

_“Would you like me to apologize?” Dean gave the other man an incredulous look._

_“Maybe,” Cas answered simply._

_“Well, I’m sorry that any man with eyes and swings the right way would hit on you.”_

_“Dean!”_

_“It’s true.” Dean shrugged._

_“Tragically for you, I’m not looking for a relationship. I have school, and my roommate is a handful.” Castiel pushed up his reading glasses. Somehow it only served to up his adorableness._

_“Who said I was?”_

_“Dean Winchester I will-”_

_Dean held his hands up. “Whoa! Whoa! Slow your roll there tiger. I was joking.” He chuckled lightly. “I was meaning as friends. But I mean if you want-”_

_“No.” Cas picked up his books. Dean grabbed the two that had fallen to the library floor right as Ms.Mayberry the librarian shushed the boys._

_Dean gave her a side eye. “Will you just shut up for a second.”_

_“Dean I need to go.”_

_The taller of the two blocked the way. “Hold on for a damn minute.” He crossed his arms. “Calm your flustered self. No one said we had to date. Now or ever. I’m just saying I’m here for whenever you need me.”_

_“That is very kind of you Dean.”_

 

    “Sir? Sir, can you hear me?” She flashed her penlight in his eye.

     He blinked to find flashing red and blue lights. He didn’t know the paramedic in front of him. Normally Dean knew most of them. Sweat rolled down his face. The night air was suddenly chilly.

    “Sir, can you tell me your name?”

    Dean looked around. Where was Adam? Where was Cain? Adam?  _Adam_? 

    There was a dark puddle of a liquid was drying up several feet away. Blood splattered the pavement between Dean and the puddle.

    The paramedic touched his arm, eliciting a hiss from Dean.

    She picked up her radio. “Second victim. Early to mid-thirties,”

    He could see the other paramedics loading a body strapped to a gurney onto the ambulance. Where was Adam? Cain? Adam,  _Adam_?

   There was a blanket set over a form that Dean spotted over her shoulder. Second victim.

   One of the other paramedics called over, saying something about ‘critical’ and ‘casualty.’

 

    He blinked, and the flashing lights no longer surrounded him.

    There was yet another hole in his memory. Probably would be more before the night was over.

 

_“C’mon Ace, let your old man have one more shift. Just one more before I have my own son showing me up, beating me to the fire before I even have my mask on.”_

_Dean scoffed, trying to cover up a laugh. The damage was already done, his first_ real  _shift had been moved one day over. Classic John freaking Winchester pulling a ‘one more day.’ Dean wasn’t stupid. His father wasn’t losing his reputation, hell he’d gain more with Dean starting up the job. He just didn’t want to let go of the old times. Let the good times roll._

 _“You’re still on standby._ If _we need you.”_

_“Thank you,” John spoke._

_At the same time, Dean muttered: “you’re not helping, Bobby.”_

_“Your daddy’s got a point kid. Some of us need one more fire before the new generation buts in and shows us up. It makes us feel old.”_

_“Little late on that one, old man,” Abel called out as he and Benny climbed off a gleaming engine 67._

_Dean burst out laughing._

_“Keep that up, chuckles and we old men can make your life a living hell.” Rufus joined the other two. “Now get out of my firehouse, we need you fresh if you’re on call.”_

_“If at all,” the three older men chuckled together._

 

_If only they could have seen how the next 3 hours played out._

 

    He blinked, his surroundings changed again. Dean didn’t know how, but he found himself standing on a porch that was familiar like the back of his hand. He knew this place. It had been haunting his dreams for the last week. He’d wake without a clue to what he’d dreamt, but knew he was supposed to know it. That in another life he had. This was it. This was the same front porch that he kept seeing nearly every night in his dreams. This was it.

_Do you have anybody? Someone, I should call?_

    That was the voice. The one that lived in the house. The one that Dean could never remember, but always should have known. 

    His arm pulsed in competition with his head. His mouth was completely dry. The world swirled around him. His head felt light. Sweat slid down his face. Gunshots echoed in his mind. Where was Adam? Was he okay? What about Cain? Adam, _Adam_? _Adam_ _?_

 

_Do you have anybody? Someone, I should call?_

_Don’t got anybody. Not anymore._

 

The night his father and Abel died. The night he almost lost Bobby, he came here. He knew it now. Knew it from deep down within the troubled strands of his very soul.

    Dean blinked. The door in front of him opened.

    He was met with eyes so blue he could get lost in the safety of their vast oceans.

 

He blinked. 

    

    “ _Dean_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things First, I got a PSA: My family and I will be out of town over the weekend. I highly doubt this will be the case, but I'd like to give a heads up it is very possible for next week's chapter to be delayed. No, I did not plan it to be that way, though it is kinda funny (but not) how that ended up working out. Alright, next objective...
> 
>  
> 
> Just so you know: the moment I typed “The first shot rang out,” I had to pause. I’ve never had this kind of feeling when I write a death/violent scene; goodness knows I’ve written many of those kinds. As I write this end of chapter note, I do realize that some of you out there might hate me for a bit; that or just really upset with the fact that this fic is dragging you through literal and figurative hell. 
> 
> Quit your shouting and give me a second. I’d like you to understand that I had this scene planned since I began writing this fic. It was (and still very much is) essential to the plot. This suffering will not be done in vain.  
> Honestly? I’M having trouble coming to terms with this. I did what I normally do to gear up for scenes like this, but something was different. I still don’t quite know what. 
> 
> Good job guys, you [and this story] broke me.  
> ~ with love, Ty


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From within the crowd, he spotted the familiar form. But he’d recognize that face anywhere. Even through the dizziness, he knew her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s just a tad early (or maybe not) to be asking this, but start thinking out extra scenes you may want me to write. I already have one in mind, and there is always the epilogue. I’m sure there's some of you out there who might want a little more detail into an event or even in someone else’s point of view ;)  
> For example, the extra scene I already am working with goes between this and the last chapter. You don’t have to, I was just setting the offer on the table.

**_September 14, 2015 [1:45 a.m.]_ **

 

It was late, Cas knew it the moment he jerked awake. The television lighting the room up with a gray hue as scenes of some John Wayne and Sam Elliott movie flashed over the screen.      

 _Blue Steel,_ Cas thought to himself as he stretched on the couch. Dean undoubtedly would have loved it. Castiel was also certain that his husband had seen the movie before. That never really stopped Dean from John Wayne marathons every Thanksgiving.

    Knowing he didn’t have work for yet a couple more days, Cas just stared at the blank ceiling. He paid no attention to The Duke as his character mounted up to ride out.

    He didn’t quite understand what would have woken him. Of course, the old western shootouts could have very well been the culprit. The real reason made itself known as his phone buzzed on the coffee table.

    The screen displayed an array of 23 missed calls, 17 voicemails, and 16 texts. Majority of the calls were from Ellen, Jody, Charlie, and Sam. There were also messages from nearly everyone that Dean worked with.

    

     _“Sorry to bother you Cas, just wondering if you knew where Dean was? He had something planned here, hasn’t shown yet. It’s probably nothing. Just wanting to know if I needed to thump him over the head.”_ Ellen’s voicemails were all from the day -or hours- before.

     _“Cas it’s Ellen, again. Tell that boy that I don’t give a shit if he shows.”_ She pauses. _“Just… just tell the dumbass to call me so I know he’s fine?”_

 

Cas was pulled from his thoughts before he could listen to any more messages. The house was filled with a dark silence. It was only just as Castiel thought it had been nothing, that it sounded again. Weak knocks filled the house. They were empty and hollow as if the person administering the pounding on the door had no knowledge of their own actions. Cas glanced at the clock again. Quarter till 1. Who in their right mind would be out at this time? Hesitantly he pocketed the stainless steel pocket knife that Dean had given him when they first started dating.

    Cas stared at the door for several moments before reaching for the knob. His eyes widened when he pulled it open.

    “ _Dean_?” He gasped.

    Dean blinked.

    “Dammit, C’mon,” Cas whispered, pulling the taller man into the house. He made a point to lock the door behind them. Dean was shaking slightly by the time Cas was able to guide him to a stool by the island. It was the closest place that Castiel could have gotten him to. Dean had looked ready to collapse.

    “Dean? What happened?”

    Dean reached over, grasping bunches of Castiel’s shirt in his stained fist.

    That was when Cas saw it. “ _Jesus!_ ”

    There was blood all over Dean’s hands, some even on his face. Some splattered over his right shoulder. The black Zeppelin shirt wasn’t helping Cas to find anything that might be wrong. He was suddenly reminded of that night, so long ago. When Dean stumbled onto his front porch after his father and Abel died, not knowing if Bobby would make it.

    “Dean. Dean, I need you to tell me what happened.” Nothing. “At least tell me what’s  _wrong._  I _need_ to help you. I can’t do that if I don’t know.”

    There was that same empty look in those green eyes.

    “Dean. _Dean_!” Cas took hold of his husband’s shoulder, shaking him.

    The first response he’d gotten was a yelp. Dean covered Cas’s hand with his own.

    Castiel was confused until he felt something warm slide onto their fingers. _Dean_ was bleeding. “Stay here, I’ll be-”

    “Don’t,” the word hardly made it past Dean’s dry lips. Water, he needed water. “ _Don’t_.”

    Cas was too stunned to even figure out what he had been about to say.

    “Go,” Dean was holding onto his wrist now. “Don’t,” he closed his eyes.

    “I-I’m right here Dean. I’m not planning on going anywhere. I-I just need to get the first-aid kit. You’re bleeding.”

    Dean hung his head, gripping onto Cas with both fists now. “Don’t leave… too.” He forced the words out.

    “I’d never leave you.”

    “Adam…” Dean yanked him closer. Castiel encased him in his arms. “ _God_.”

    Cas’s shirt was suddenly becoming damp. He only became alarmed when Dean was leaning on him  _too_ much. By that point, it wasn’t just tears anymore. “Dean? Dean!”

    “Hhmm?” Cas lifted Dean’s head. Half mast eyes blinked at him. There was dirt and sweat mixed into Dean’s wild hair.

    “Couch,” Cas grunted as he helped Dean to his feet. If Dean would pass out, Cas would prefer him to be somewhere where he wouldn’t hurt himself any further. He huffed once Dean was situated in one corner. “What happened?” Cas murmured, rubbing Dean’s dusty cheek with the pad of his thumb. He sat back on the coffee table.

    “Don’t know…” Dean whispered. His skin was clammy. He wouldn’t even let Cas near his arm. “Dizzy,” he breathed.

    That could mean a number of things. All ranged from life-threatening to flu symptoms. Cas made a mental note to have Charlie make him medical lists or something for future use. With how often Dean walked through the door all banged and beaten, he sure needed something like that. Use to. Dean used to walk through the door like that.

    By this time Cas was able to at least slip back to the kitchen. He grabbed a washcloth, bowl, and glass of water. His heart sunk when he returned to find that Dean had spaced out again. His breathing was awkward as he trembled there on the couch. He was probably in shock.

    “Oh, Dean,” Cas whimpered.

    Dean’s eyes focused once more. Cas took this chance to start cleaning off his face and arms. Tiny nicks lacerated Dean’s skin every so often. Blood that was decidedly not his, stained his skin.

    “Adam.” Dean squeaked.

    Castiel paused. The cloth he used the closest he had gotten to Dean’s upper arm. He tenderly held Dean’s face between his hands. “Do you know what happened.”

    “Gunshots,” Cas took in a sharp breath at his (not)husband’s words. “I-I think Adam and Cain were hit.”

    That was right. Dean had a night planned to celebrate Adam’s first year as a deputy.

    “Nothing else.” Dean’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard. He shrank back when Cas tried lifting the glass to his chapped lips. Only a few drops slid into his mouth. Those green eyes widened. “Cain? Adam?” Goosebumps prickled Dean’s bear arms. His jaw tightened to the point that Cas was afraid he’d chip a tooth. “ _Adam_?”

    “Dean, Dean!” Cas was forced to set the cloth down once more. Steadfastly he gripped onto Dean’s shoulders. Fear was coursing through his veins right along the adrenaline. “Whatever happened… whatever you remember, you’re  _not_ there, Dean. Please, just hear my voice. You are safe. You are _safe_ .” It was maybe several years too late, but Cas kissed Dean’s forehead. Much like the other had done so long ago in one of the hardest times of Castiel Novak’s life. Dean had been his rock through the years. It was about time the tables turned for someone to take care of  _him_.

    When Cas pulled back, Dean’s eyes were closed. His breathing was better. The glassiness that had glazed over the green now slipped from under his lids and slid down his cheeks.

    Cas glanced back at the clock. Quickly he stood, grabbing hold of one of the small medkits in the nearest bathroom. The one that he really should have been using was in the master bedroom. Castiel was not about to leave Dean alone. Not like that just yet.

    When he went to tend to Dean’s shoulder, all the other man did was clutch his hand with his own. He only allowed Cas to swipe over it with a clean cloth twice. Figuring that was the furthest he’d get, Castiel set to wrapping it, still not getting a sufficient enough look at the actual wound.

    He was just finishing up when the scratchy voice blessed the silent air. “I-I remember…”

    Shocked, Castiel sat frozen on the coffee table.  

    Dean didn’t speak aloud. He must have thought he had, only his lips moved. _You’ve done this before._

Cas watched him for a few moments. When Dean didn’t move or open his eyes, Cas stood. He took the bowl into the kitchen. His gaze fell back to the man on the couch. Picking up his abandoned phone, he went back to his messages. The morning was getting later. Twenty till four. With a hefty sigh, Cas scrolled down to Sam’s last text. **_Tried calling, but it’s bad Cas. Dean’s missing_ **

**** He really should be calling Sam, but then the middle Winchester would want to talk to his brother. Dean was in no condition to be interrogated by Sam, or even Jody. Cas didn’t doubt that she was involved somewhere. **_He’s here. Hasn’t said much and is pretty shaken up. Do not bring the cavalry to my home._ **

 

Dean, if he was actually aware of the world, would be proud. Cas stood there silently wondering if Sam would listen.

…

**_September 15, 2015_ **

 

He could still feel the weight on top of him. Could still feel a body above his crushing him into the cold pavement of the parking lot. Dean could still hear gunshots. There were several blank spots in his memory from throughout the night and early morning. Most of it involved what happened after the gunshots, and his way to Cas’s place. Though there was one part of his night he could remember clearly.

 

_He stood trembling in the archway of the graveyard. His feet hollowly move to the double stone that bore his parents’ names. He felt like a little boy again. Trying to avoid his father, but knowing he’d have to face the man eventually. Pink petals from the magnolia tree floated down in the pitch black of the starless night. The moon peeking out from the cover of midnight clouds. Dean’s knees met the icy grass in front of the grey stone._

_“I-I’m sorry… I failed.”_ Adam, _Adam_? _He sat down, eyes tracing the indentation of his mother’s name. He’d never wanted her here in the last twenty years more than this moment._

 _Sweat rolled down his back. His mind was becoming hazy. He recognized the edge of shock. Start of a few other things. But for right now Dean didn’t care. Cain was probably dead._ Adam, _Adam_? _Adam… Adam too. He was still waiting for his turn. Since everything bad has been happening to everyone but him. He was still waiting for his turn. Since his mother died, and they never recovered a body. Since his father died. Since Abel, and everyone else he’d watch fall in the line of duty over his years. He just wanted them_ back. _But he messed up his one job. Couldn’t even protect his baby brother._

 

There was a bead of sweat here and there that still lingered at his hairline. His hands were still shaking. _God_ , it was bad, wasn’t it?

    Cas had come back over to the couch and held onto Dean for a while. Dean sunk into the embrace, his body heavy. He was tired. So, _so_ tired. In more ways than one. There was this bone-deep ache that had settled within him. It seemed to seep into his soul.

    Castiel eventually got up and answered the door. Dean wanted to watch him walk away, maybe even follow him. Then again his eyes weren’t even open. Maybe he could just  _sleep_. When he woke up the sun would be shining, and he could chalk this night up to a horrific nightmare. Dean’s stomach churned in rebellion. It  _was_ real, and it  _did_ happen. Nothing would change that.

    “How long has he been asleep?” That was Sam. One of his brothers were safe.

    “A few minutes, but it has been very fitful.”

    He wanted to open his eyes now. To see his brother - at least one of them. Maybe he hadn’t completely failed. Dean knew it from in his gut that if Sam had been there, he would have gotten hurt too.

    “You know it took a lot to keep Jody from storming in here.”

    “Yes, and I thank you for not bringing everyone. I fear that would have the opposite effect on Dean than what we desire.”

    “Adam’s in surgery,” Sam murmured. There must have been a silent continuation of that part of the conversation before Sam spoke again. “Is he hurt?”

    “I don’t know Sam.” It was quiet for a beat. “Where are you taking him?”

    “The Roadhouse. Ellen will mur- er… Ellen would be upset if she didn’t see he was fine herself. Same went for Jody. Hell everyone wants to see him.”

    “That’s not the best idea right now.”

    “I know, that's why I told them they can be there, but not to crowd him. They can do that some other time.”

    Finally, he was able to pry his eyes open. “Sam?”

    Sam crossed the living room from the kitchen in three strides. He knelt by the couch, unsure if he should touch his brother. “Hey Dean, how you doing?” His eyebrows were creased in concern. All Dean wanted to do was to tell Sam there was nothing to worry about.

    Dean rubbed his eyes as he sat up.

    Sam huffed when Dean never answered. “You ready to go?”

    “Yeah, I think.” His voice was still rough. Dean glanced at Castiel, communicating a silent thank you and farewell.

…

 

For a Monday morning, the Roadhouse was mostly deserted. Only mostly since there was still a bit of a crowd, but nothing compared to what it should have been. Dean looked anywhere but his brother. A few dark spots prickled his vision. His head felt light and heavy all at once. All the while Sam kept those puppy eyes trained on Dean.

    Dean could hear his voice now, what Sam had told him all that time ago at Dad’s grave.

 

_“You had been volunteering at the firehouse beforehand. That night was going to be your first day on the job. Dad took your shift. That old ratty apartment building that the city had been trying to tare down for years caught fire. You were called in any way for backup when they were swamped. Truck 33 was in the middle of shift change. You got there in time to pull Bobby out. Someone else had gotten to Abel and Dad.”_

 

Sam had said someone else had gotten Abel. Thing is, Dean remembered the weight. Of carrying Abel’s limp body out of that apartment building -or could it have been Cain’s laying on top of him? Dean Winchester knew wholeheartedly that he had dragged Abel from that fire so many years ago. Not someone else. It was him.

    Sam was saying something, but right now Dean didn’t care. He needed to ask. To hear the answer even if he already knew the exact one Sam would give. Needed to know what more lay behind his reasoning. “Why did you lie Sammy?”

 

_“There’s so much I want to tell you, to remind you of. But I’m terrified you’re gonna check out again. That you’ll be overwhelmed by the smallest things.”_

 

His head was pounding at the same elevated speed of his heart. The  _thump, thump, thump_ radiated inside his chest and skull. Pressure encased his head the more he thought of that fire. Of the night before. _Why did Sam lie_?

    His throat was dry. He needed a drink. He needed ice for the raised hot skin around the cut. Hell, he needed put out of his misery.

    Or sleep. Sleep was really good. Except his stomach was doing flips. It would be impossible to drift off again.

    Sam’s hazel eyes were wide.

    Dean couldn’t take it anymore. He shifted to the edge of the booth, standing. _That_ was a horrible decision. Dean’s head swam and his vision blurred. He  _really_ needed a drink.

    “Dean?”

    He had to set a hand on the table. God, he was tired. He could take a nap for three years. Dean blinked, maybe his head hurt too much for that. His stomach hurt too. Then again, so did his arm. Adam? Was Cain here? Adam, _Adam_?

    He smacked his dry lips together. He needed a drink.

_“You got there in time to pull Bobby out. Someone else had gotten to Abel and Dad.”_

Yeah, that someone else was him. _Jesus_ , his head was killing him. He blinked hard. His arm hurt too.

    “ _Dean_?”

    Dean looked up, but not at his brother. From within the crowd, he spotted the familiar form. Curly blonde strands cut shorter than the last time he’d seen it. But he’d recognize that face  _anywhere_. Even through the dizziness, he knew  _her._

“Dea-”

    “Mom?”

    Suddenly the ground came up to meet him. Agony erupted around his skull as his vision grayed. Those kind blue eyes that he wished to see since he was four looked down at him, swimming with worry. Tremors ran through his limbs. He couldn't see those blue eyes anymore. When did he shut his eyes? God, he was tired. Maybe he could just sleep a while…

    His body racked with the start of convulsions. He was thirsty. His head felt light and heavy. The side of his skull throbbed.

     _“_ ** _Dean_** _!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys...
> 
>  
> 
> There really...
> 
>  
> 
> is only two real chapters left (not counting the epilogue)


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were a few times they bounced off each other but kept up their whirl to no end. They’d just rebound and dance right past each other as if to continue on to oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another early chapter, oh well... Got another PSA guys, the majority of June I will be traveling, so if I happen to not end up getting the epilogue up before that... I apologize. I leave June 6th, and after I get back on the 11th (I think) I'm home 3 days before leaving again. Though if it isn't up by the time I go on vacation, it should be before I leave again. But holy crap it's unreal how close to the end we are D: :D ;(

**_September 16, 2015_ **

 

_     “Go! Go! Go!” Mom laughs, as Dean takes off with the football. She placed Sam in John’s arms. _

_     “You  _ cheat _.” Dad accused when his eldest reached the far end of the yard.  _

_     “No one said I couldn’t play dirty.” Mom grinned innocently.  _

_     Sam squealed, jerking the ballcap from his father’s head.  _

_     “Don’t think you weren’t part of this,” Dad jokes. He looks up as Dean trots back to them, football still in hand. “What do you think Dean? Think Sammy’s ready to throw around a pigskin?”  _

_     Dean shakes his head as he giggles. “No, Dad.”  _

_     “We’ll give him a few more years,”  _

 

_ The next night the house was swallowed in flames.  _

 

_ … _

_ He stared at the wood of the front door. Somehow he had gotten here, he didn’t exactly know how, but he had. From the hospital to his mother's grave, to here.  _

_     The person who opened the door rubbed at his blue eyes. “Why are you- Dean?” He stopped in his tracks.  _

_     Dean didn’t say a word. All of a sudden he was able to smell himself. He still reeked of smoke and ash. He shouldn't have come here. He shouldn’t ruin Cas’s night - or morning. But the other man was already standing in front of him, pulling him inside.  _

_     “What happened Dean? What’s wrong?”  _

_     Dean said nothing,  _ couldn’t _ say anything. _

_     “Do you have anybody? Someone, I should call?”  _

_     He found his voice, “don’t got anybody. Not anymore.” The response was automatic, mechanic even.  _

_     Castiel deflated.  _

_     How did he find a man like this? How could Castiel still be this great, and stick around Dean?  _

_     Would he leave too? Just like almost everyone else had?  _

_     Dean clung to him unashamedly. He just needed this one thing to say. To kindle into a flame that would continue to burn. That would always keep burning. One thing to light his life and not disappear. He needed to catch the flame.   _

_ … _

 

_ Angels are watching over you.  _

 

Maybe he knew an angel. He certainly had an idea. One that could set fire to his entire world, pull him from the darkness he was in. Pull him from the hell he had sunk into. 

 

_ Angels are watching over you, Dean.  _

 

He could almost hear her voice or at least swore he could. Though, really, all he was hearing that annoying beeping. Dean’s nose was flooded with the sharp tang of antiseptic. Groggily he knew where he was.  _ Hospital.  _

    There was the stick of a needle in the crease of his left elbow. Still a pulsing on his right shoulder. No uncomfortable sliding of a cannula under his nose, thankfully. As he surfaced more, the blackness was interrupted by an onslaught of light. The back of his eyelids took on more of a pinkish red hue. 

    When Dean was finally able to pry his lids open, the first thing he noticed was his brother. 

    Sam hunched in the cheap hospital chair. An unopened book lay in his lap. He was either asleep or staring blankly at the cover. Dean was given an answer when Sam glanced up a moment later. 

    He let out a massive breath. “ _ Dammit _ ,  _ Dean _ . You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days if you keep this up.” Sam set his head in his hands. “First you go missing, then after I find you, you drop to the floor seizing.” He started massaging his temples. “Dehydration, infection, low blood pressure…” Sam listed. “They had to dig a fucking bullet from your arm. Along with whatever had lodged in thereafter.” 

He ran his fingers through his long mane. His look becoming distant, as if he was seeing another time, rather than the present. “I can still hear the fucking heart monitor. How it went crazy as I had to watch you jerk helplessly on the bed.” 

    But hadn’t the eldest Winchester collapsed on the floor of the Roadhouse? Dean was certain of it. He shakily remembered Ellen’s voice yelling for an ambulance. 

    The Roadhouse… the night out. 

    The gunshots. “Adam?” Dean rasped. “Cain?” 

    Sam’s puppy dog eyes lifted again. “Cain… Cain’s gone, Dean.” 

    “Colette?” He felt the weight. The blow of another body landing on top of his, crushing him. Stickiness of the blood as it slipped past his fingers. “ _ Adam _ ?” 

    “Yeah, Jody and Bobby have talked to her.” The second question stayed unanswered. 

    Anything else that could have been said was interrupted. “It’s a lot better to see you up and talking.” Michael grinned from the doorway. “How are you doing, Dean?” 

    “Uh…” He really didn’t know. 

    Michael went through the motions, checking stats and temperature. “Temps finally down, I think we have this infection handled. Should be able to go home by the end of the day.” When the doc grabbed Dean’s arm, the patient hissed. “Oh yes. This was packed full of dust, dirt, hell, there were a few rocks too.” Doc stood back, jotting things down. “It may have been for the best. There was enough evidence in your arm to put that Walker boy away for a very long time. That agent sticking in town suspected he was working with that Alastair Nomed man.” 

    Dean stayed silent. There were a few other things that he’d like to discuss with his brother. One being that he had seen their mother - which was impossible since she’d been dead for 30 years. He waited until Michael left the room. 

    “You said something yesterday,” Sam was the first to speak. 

    “Yeah,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. 

    “What did I lie about, Dean?” 

    “I thought I saw Mom…”

    Both brothers looked at one another confused. 

    Dean looked away from his sibling. He needed to tell him sometime. 

    “Dean,” Sam set his book on the chair beside him. “Mom is-” 

    “Yes, they're both fine. Thank you, Mick.” Another conversation drifted in from the hallway. 

    He knew that  _ voice _ . Dean sat up even more at the sound. He knew  _ her _ . His fingers deftly found the IV as she stepped into the doorway, sliding her phone into her pocket. The moment he was no longer tied to the IV, Dean hoisted himself from the bed. His bare feet hit the freezing linoleum floor. He didn’t feel it. Every single ounce of his attention was zoned in on the woman standing in the doorway of his hospital room. This undoubtedly was the same woman who had been at the Roadhouse. The same one he hadn’t seen since he was four years old. In that cold November night when the house nearly burnt to the ground. Dean didn’t know how she was here, but he honestly didn’t give a damn. 

    He hesitated, gingerly reaching toward her shorter figure. “Are you- are you  _ real _ ?” 

    Mary Winchester looked up at her eldest son. The curl of her blonde hair brushing her shoulders. Her blue eyes sparkled as if she hadn’t aged a day since her sons had last seen her. “Dean I-” 

    Dean cut her off by encasing her within his strong arms, pulling her into a mountain of a man. He rested his cheek on top of her head. He held onto her as if she’d be gone again if he let go. “Hi, Mom,” 

    If Mary felt the wet droplets that landed in her hair, she didn’t acknowledge them. Dean was grateful for that. Just as he didn’t mention the wet spots on the stark-white hospital shirt. When the two separated, Dean’s hands lingered on his mother’s shoulders. 

    Mom smiled brightly, “you boys grew up.” She leaned over to glance at Sam past her eldest. 

…

    It was a quarter past twelve by the time they released Dean. He was getting restless.  Michael would have preferred to keep the stubborn man longer, but knew he couldn’t keep the Winchester down. 

    Sam and Mom walked ahead of him on their way out. Dean detoured to a different hallway, stopping at the closed door that kept him outside his baby brother’s room. He observed through the small window next to the door. The room was dark, the only things lighting it was the screens surrounding Adam’s bed. The younger man’s eyelashes lay innocently against his pale cheeks. An oxygen mask obscured the rest of Adam’s features. He had a hell of a recovery before him, right now he just needed sleep. 

 

_  “Sometimes the body just needs to shut down before it can start up again. Give itself time to heal.”  _

 

    Dean has heard that somewhere before. Not sure where, but it was one of many seemingly insignificant things tucked into the back of his mind. His fingers mindlessly flipping Benny’s quarter in his pocket.

    For now, Adam was still breathing, still kicking. That was all that mattered. 

    “Dean?” His mother called from down the hall. “You coming?” 

    “Yeah, yeah. Just give me a second.” Without hesitation, Dean opened the door. He pulled his wallet out and set a penny down on the bedside table. President Lincoln’s profile faced the blank tile ceiling. Dean smoothed back some of Adam’s hair. 

“You did good, you did  _ good _ .” He had to use all his willpower to keep ‘kid’ out of the sentence. “I’ll be here for whenever you wake up.” Dean patted his shoulder. 

…

 

    “Alright, I have to ask.” Sam declared after they had settled into a booth at the Roadhouse. Food was ordered, Ellen made sure to give Dean hell, and their mother had gone to the bathroom. Dean held his father’s leather-bound journal, having grabbed it from the back of the Impala on a whim. 

    “The hell you goin’ on about Sammy?” Dean was paging through the old battered thing, looking at the dusty photos inside. 

    “What were you talking about yesterday? You hadn’t said a word and next thing I know you’re telling me I lied.” 

    Dean’s green eyes flitted up to his brother across from him. There was a flash of panic. How much was he hiding? Dean groaned, rubbing his temple. All this behind-his-back parading was starting to give him a headache. 

    “Dean, what did you mean?” 

    “What you said about the apartment fire a couple years ago,” Dean corrected himself, “ _ several  _ years ago.” 

    “ _ The _ ?” 

    Dean nodded. 

    “What do you remember?” 

    He was starting to despise that line, “enough.” 

    Sam gulped as Dean closed the journal. 

    “Enough to know that what you said was mostly bullshit.” 

    “Not all of it,” 

    “ _ Most  _ of it. The important stuff.” 

    “Dean I didn’t-” 

    Dean held up a hand. “Amnesia or not, I know for a fact that I carried my best friend out of that fire.” He could feel the weight across his shoulders, on top of his chest. “It was Benny who got Bobby and the Chief who brought out Dad.” 

    Sam’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “You really remember?” 

    Dean nodded. “Running into that inferno with Rufus at my heel before we separated. Dad went off alone, that was before the main office started pushing the two-in-two-out rule. Don’t know how it happened, but he was on his own, or whoever was with him bailed. Paramedics tried resuscitation. He was just, he was just… gone.” 

    There was a squeak from the tread of a shoe, Dean looked up to find their mother with wide eyes. They softened as they glazed over. “I always told him…” Mary looked away. “So, it was a fire?” 

    Sam opened his mouth, but it was Dean who answered. “Yes.” 

    Mary sat down as she brushed back some of her shorter hair.  

    “He took what was supposed to be my first shift.” 

    She buried her head in her hands. Dean wrapped a protective and comforting arm around his mother. She tucked her head underneath his chin. The brothers shared a look. 

    Mom was back. They didn’t know how or why, but this seemed to be the win they were waiting for. 

 

**_September 24, 2015_ **

 

Dean was going down the stairs when Sam made a beeline for the bathroom. He’d been staying over off and on since Dean said their mother could take the guest bedroom. Charlie had made arrangements elsewhere. Dean could only wonder what Jess thought of all of this. Hell, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around it all. 

    Though the sound of his mother’s voice caused him pause once he was on the ground floor. Dean took a few steps from the living room to peer into the kitchen. He was rolling up his sleeves having a few things planned for the day. Mary er- Mom was leaning against the counter, pancakes sizzling on the stove to near perfection. 

    “I know, and I’m sorry for not checking in when I was supposed to. It’s just, you all still have tabs on me. There’s also the point that I’m not as immersed in the program as I had to be back then.” Mary -Mom- pinned the phone to her shoulder as she flipped breakfast. 

    There was an accented voice on the other line, but he couldn’t make out the words.

    “No, Mick. I’m with my boys. I haven’t told them yet, but I’d like to. You know just as well as I do that the term Hunter isn’t that well known.”

    Dean took another step forward. He mentally cursed the wood flooring as it creaked. He had always forgotten about that spot. 

    “Now you can tell them to calm down since I checked in. I should go, thanks.” Mary sighed, tucking her phone away. 

    Dean stood quietly in his own kitchen. He was reminded of the fact that he practically let a stranger into his own home. 

    “How much of that did you hear?” 

    “Enough,” he found himself saying this line too often. 

    Mary took a deep breath in. “Dean, you have to understand-” 

    “Understand what? There is  _ nothing  _ to understand unless you stop giving excuses and start explaining.” 

    By this time Sam has made his way down the stairs. His button-up neatly tucked into his slacks. “What’s going on?” 

    Dean crossed his arms, leaning against the jutting out wall. His jaw set, eyes sharp. “Mick, as in Mick Davies? Jackasses of Letters?” 

    Sam snapped to attention at this. His hand paused on the seat he had just pulled from under the table. “The one that came up to us during the road trip?” 

    Dean’s gaze didn’t waver from his mother. “The very one, Sammy. I suspect his ‘partner’ was tailing us back in Texas too.” 

    Sam turned soft questioning eyes to their mother. 

    Mary shook her head, pulling up a stool from the island to sit down. “I’m a Hunter.” 

    “What?” Sam questioned. 

    “The night of the fire, the one that should have killed me… I got out using the nursery window. Or rather, someone had pulled me out. Next thing I know I have Federal agents staring at me, saying I can’t go home. The MoL is the federal branch that Mick and Ketch specialize in, they run the Hunters. The protection ‘program’ that I was entered into soon after the fire. They tried to keep me stationed in Kansas for the last ten, but before that, I was all over.” 

    Dean stiffened. “So you’ve been running around with this little Brit book club for the last  _ thirty years _ ? And what, did they run you like a soldier?” 

    Sam tried to speak up, “Dean Dad-” 

    “That is different.” Dean barked. “No birthday cards, New Years wishes. Oh, and God forbid sending a  _ ‘hey I’m alive! Hope you’re doing fine!’ _ ” 

    “I am _ trying  _ to play 30 years of catch-up! I had to miss a lot of your childhood, missed everything for Sam!” 

    “Nine years ago, the ratty old apartment fire. Hear about that? That one killed two firefighters. Almost three.” Dean shifted. “The warehouse fire last year, hear about that one?” 

 

_ “They aren’t calling it an accident. They say it’s arson.”  _

 

    Mom -Mary’s- face fell. “ _ Dean _ -” 

    “Guess you didn’t.” Dean pulled his boots on and grabbed a jacket. “Lock the door when you leave.” His hand was on the doorknob when Mary spoke again. 

    “I am  _ not  _ just a mother, and you- you are not a  _ child _ .” 

    He let out a cold huff. “No, I never was.” 

    The only response to that was the door clicking shut. 

 

…

 

Dean waited for the nurse to finish up and walk out before he entered the room. He's done this every day for the past week. 

    Adam looked up, his fluffed hair sticking in one odd direction. He gave a lopsided grin complete with a nasal cannula. “Dude, I got all the hot chicks fawning all over me.” 

    “Yeah, that tends to happen.” Dean set the plastic bag down. There were wings designed around the logo of Sip of Heaven. 

    Adam flipped the penny in his hand, big doe eyes watching his older brother pull the foam cups out. “Did you really?” 

    Dean glanced up, “I did.” 

    Adam took the first gulp of his favorite drink. He paused for a moment before spinning the penny on the small lap table the nurse had brought over for him. Dean set his cup down, placing the quarter on its side before flicking it too. He watched both coins rotate in near endless circles as he tried his own drink. Both cups held the same one. 

    The coins bounced off each other several times. The brothers would reset them again and again. 

    Most the time the quarter knocked the penny down. A few times the penny interrupted the quarter’s rotation. Each time the coins were set back up. Continuing their infinite path of spinning as Dean leaned back in his chair, and lifted a cup of Milk and Cookies to his lips. 

 

There were a few times they bounced off each other but kept up their whirl to no end. They’d just rebound and dance right past each other as if to continue on to oblivion. 


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello, Dean.”   
>  “You lied to me.” Dean feigned a healthy mix of hurt and anger as much as he could. “Your birthday is in September, not November. I missed it again.”   
>  “I didn’t tell you anything about my birthday.”   
>  “Oh, whoops. I just gave away my party trick, didn’t I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what I got done! I couldn't keep it to myself. [p.s. I'm sorry] 
> 
> This is your only warning guys: grab a tissue box (or twenty) and keep that sucker close…

**_October 19, 2015_ **

 

_ Angel.  _

 

It was another morning of waking up to an empty house. Dean had been taking on any extra shifts he was able to. Charlie was at Dorothy’s again, while mom was at Sam and Jess’s. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around it all. It was great having Mary back, mostly. Dean didn’t quite know how to completely think about that yet. That was beside the fact that she’d been around for the last three decades and didn’t bother to check in on her husband and sons. Giving his thoughts a rest, Dean sent Charlie a text, asking if she knew where his leather jacket was. Before he was given an answer he gave up and pulled on a different one. 

    He’d gone to Cas several times. Only, his friend seemed distraught every time he walked through the door. There was just something there… Something missing but Dean didn’t know yet. He left the rest of the group sitting around Truck 67 on a small pitstop. It was a few hours past noon and Castiel’s last class of the day. Turns out they’d get an impromptu visitor. 

    Castiel’s reaction was priceless when Dean walked into the art room. All the student’s watched his movement to the desk in the back of the room. 

    “Dean? What are you doing?” Cas’s blue eyes were wide as Dean sat on the edge of the desk. He only donned his suspenders and pant, the coat he left in the truck. 

    Dean gently moved Castiel’s glasses over from where they had been laid on the desk. “Making sure you remembered dinner tonight.” 

    “What?” Cas’s fingers fiddled with whatever was tied around his neck. He had stopped wearing his wedding ring a while ago. Dean suspected it was looped onto the necklace. 

     “Hey! Get back to work, this ain’t no gossip magazine.” Dean grinned back at the man next to him after addressing the students. “Had to get your attention.” He paused, mindlessly toying with a few papers. He lowered his voice, “I don’t know exactly what we were like before the accident… but I know there was something, and it seemed important.” 

    “I- I  _ can’t _ -” 

_ Angel.  _

    “I know.” Dean took Cas’s hand, thumb rubbing his knuckles. “I know Cas. You’re terrified. You’re absolutely scared of making the wrong move. I am too.” 

    Cas’s gaze jerked back up to him. “Dean-” 

    “I remembered how I lost my dad. How easily that could have been me. Reminded me how scared everyone was after I woke up last year. Then I met you - again. So whatever the hell we had before… I want to try to find it again. I’m sick of these missing pieces. Tired of knowing some of them belong to you.” 

_ “Winchester it's about damn time you wrap it up. Chief is gonna want up back soon.”  _ His radio crackled. 

    “Watch your fucking language Lafitte! There are students here.” There were barks of laughter from behind him. Dean sighed, “guess that’s my cue.” He slid from the desk, but Cas didn’t let go of his hand. 

    “Dean.” He tugged the taller man back around. “Take this,” Cas slipped the necklace from around his head. 

    “Cas I can’t-” 

    “You can and you will.” Castiel set it in Dean’s hand, closing his fingers around the objects. “As insurance,” 

    Dean rose a brow. “Insurance?” 

    “That you’ll give it back to me tonight at dinner.” 

    “You have yourself a deal.” Dean let the rope slip around his own neck. The pads of his fingers roaming over the two wedding bands and the idol of the necklace. 

…

 

    “Sorry Bobby, gonna have to raincheck on that one.” 

    “What for? You gotta date or somethin’?” The older man crossed his arms, stopping this the hall. He had been walking with Dean, asking if he was free for supper. Jody had been asking nonstop for the last two weeks. Being at the end of shift, Dean was headed to the locker room. 

    Dean only smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. 

    “Of damn course you do.” 

    “Speaking of,” Dean murmured, pulling his buzzing phone from his pocket. “Hey, Cas, thanks for returning my call.” 

    “Hello, Dean. I think my place could work out, or we could go somewhere else? The Roadhouse perhaps?” 

 

_ Angel.  _ The word that had been echoing in his brain on repeat all day. It made him think of wings. 

 

    “What about Sip of Heaven?” 

    “Gabriel still owes me a favor, I think that will work. Will nine work?” 

    It was then that the alarms echoed through the firehouse. “Shit, I gotta take this one Cas. I’ll see you at nine.” He didn’t even think about it when he pocketed his phone in the inside pouch of his jacket. The address was a few towns over but still within their radius. It was a blaze that would need more than one firehouse. The other trucks on scene were calling for assistance. 

    Though that wasn’t what made Dean’s blood run cold. 

    Bobby’s eyes grew wide, he jumped, trying to hold Dean back. 

    The younger man tore from the retired fireman’s grip as he bolted for Truck 67. 

    It was the law office.  _ Sam’s  _ office. 

    “Dean!  _ Dean _ !” Bobby cried. 

    Dean was already up front. Everyone was already in position. “Move out!” Dean slapped the side of the rig. 

    “Dean,” Benny spoke up. 

    “ _ Drive _ , Benny. Just drive.” 

    “Yes, sir.” 

 

His heart thudded inside his chest, almost as if it could tear through his flesh. It should have been concerning. Trying to tame his building anxiety and adrenaline, Dean’s fingers messed with the wedding bands. That is until the engraving on one caught his eye. Angel  _ wings _ .  _ My Angel _ . 

 

_ Angel.  _

 

He examined the other one, finding the words easily.  _ My Hero _ . 

    Dean was forced out of his daze when Benny threw the rig in park. His green eyes wondering over to find that his brother’s workplace a raging inferno. Dean felt numb, coming to a conclusion. Everything was muffled. 

    “Dammit Winchester!” Rufus growled when Dean’s boots met the pavement. 

    Dean ignored the Chief. “Benny you’re with me. Garth and Cole, you head in with us.” 

    “What do you need me to do?” Ash got out before Alfie could. 

    “You stay here with the kid. You two see what you can do from out here. I don’t want him coming in, not after last time.” 

    “Last time?” Alfie questioned. 

    “The  _ fuck  _ does that mean Winchester?” Ash called after the group as they rushed in beside pairings from Truck 33. 

    Dean wouldn’t answer. He stopped Crowley as he was assisting workers out. Lucifer not far behind him. 

    “You seen my brother?” 

    “Haven’t bloody seen him!” 

    The woman Crowley was assisting coughed. “H-he went back in. I think he went to help people out and grab files.” 

    “Son of a bitch,” Dean breathed. He waved on his men as they rushed into the burning building. They made their way to the third floor. The fourth had already reportedly been cleared. Dean directed Garth and Cole to go in the opposite direction. “Sam!” 

    They bolted down the hallway. Flames built up in rooms, parts of the roof already falling in on others. 

    “ _ Sam _ !” 

    “In here!”

    A wave of worry and fear dissipated from him. “You fucking  _ idiot _ ! The hell were you thinking?” 

    There was ash smeared over Sam’s face. His tie askew, jacket nowhere to be found. “These files are linked to the Nomed case.” The ground shook. 

    “I’ll make sure to kick your ass later. Right now we need to go.” 

    Benny led the way, Sam scampering right behind him. Apparently, that wasn’t fast enough. By now the infrastructure of the building was complete shit. Dean was able to spot the doorway collapse before it happened. He had just enough time to push his brother onto the other side. 

    “Dean!” 

    He could tell his little brother was trying to dig him out of there. “Sam don’t!” 

    “No! I’m not gonna leave you!” Sam’s distraught voice was muffled by layers of debris. 

_ I had the dream again.  _ Sam had said that the day after Dean had gotten out of the hospital.  _ The one…  _ That  _ dream.  _

    With no other choice, Dean slammed his fist into the blockage. “Yes, you will!” He tried to calm his shaky breathing. “Yes, you will. You pull anything more out and this whole damn room will come down on me.” 

    “T-there has to be another way.” 

    “I’m sorry,” Dean whispered, picking up his radio to make it clear to everyone. “Benny get him outta here. That’s an order.” He had never demanded something so formally. “Get him outta here.” 

    Benny said nothing in return. The only confirmation that Dean had that his best friend had followed through was the sound of his brother’s protests getting fainter. He scrutinized the area. Dean was about to make his way to the other side when the room above him literally came crashing down. The floor beneath him gave. He was suspended in the air, the weight of his turnout gear pulling him into the oblivion. 

  
  


_     “You’re my Angel,” he laughed.  _

_     “And you are my Hero,” Cas had a soft smile.  _

_     “That can’t be true.”  _

_     “It is, Dean. You save people in some way each shift. You’re a hero, and you’re mine.” Cas snuggled into his arms. “You save me.”  _

_    “And you rescue me.”  _

_ … _

 

_     “It’s okay Cas. It’s okay,” Dean murmured into his -friend’s? Boyfriend’s?- hair. He watched the others on shift with him rush in and out of the house. Castiel’s family home.  _

_     “Hey, Winchester! Need your help over here.” Abel called out to the volunteer.  _

_     Dean was thanking whatever God above that his father wasn’t on shift. “I need to go.” Dean gently pried Cas from his heavy fire coat.  _

_     “No! No, Dean!” Cas panicked.  _

_     Dean took Castiel’s face in his gloved hands. “I will be right back, I  _ promise _ you. You’re safe right here, right now. Whatever happened was  _ not _ your fault. And when I get out of there, I expect you to be standing right here. I’m gonna need your help then, okay?”  _

_     Cas nodded slowly.  _

_     “I’ll be right back,” Dean kissed Castiel’s forehead. “See you when I get out.”  _

_     With that Dean rushed into the flaming home that belonged to the Novaks.  _

_     He came out with Gabe slung over his shoulder. _

 

_ He held Cas as they watched the rest of the crew try and save the burning home. Dean kissed Cas’s forehead once again for comfort.  _

_ … _

 

_     “What are you still doing up?” He turns into the living room.  _

_     “Waiting for you.”  _

_     “Cas,” Dean sighs.  _

_     “No Dean, I can’t help it.” Cas stands, crossing his arms and turning away. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you too. I just found you.” It broke Dean’s heart how that fire that destroyed his former home was still haunting his husband.  _

_     “I thought it was me who found you?” Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel from behind. “C’mon, Angel…”  _

_     “Dean I’m serious!”  _

_     “Are you? Are you really?” Dean nuzzled into his husband's neck.  _

_     “You’re impossible,” Cas huffs. _

_     “Now why do I keep hearing that?”   _

_     “Because it’s true.” Cas cracked a smile.   _

_     That was all Dean had ever wanted. To see those ocean eyes light up with sunshine along with the curl of his lover’s lips. _

_... _

 

_     “I won’t leave you, Dean.”  _

_     “Then marry me.”  _

_     “What?”  _

_     “Insurance,”  _

_     “Insurance?”  _

_     “That you’ll come back…”  _

 

It didn’t happen the overused, cliche of a slow drift to consciousness. It happened like the snap of bone, the sharp cry of his alarm, a yell from his radio. Dean’s eyes snapped open as he gasped for breath. The fire cast an orange glow, creating his only source of light. Debris scattered all around him. The ashes floated down like  _ snow _ . Embers danced in the air. 

    Dean cried out as he rolled to his side. It shut the alarm up, but it drove burning pain to race and linger in his left leg. There was something wet that rolled down the left side of his head. It could just as easily be sweat as it is blood. 

    “Aw, so you did trip up.” A voice came from the floor above him. “About damn time kid.” Those bastardly yellow eyes were staring down at him. 

    Dean kept quiet, pain still making his mind fuzzy. Somehow he was able to grab onto his radio, holding down the side button. 

    “You’re just like your father. Stubborn, a complete  _ pain in the ass  _ to get rid of. But, I like you, Dean.” He slipped the oxygen mask from his head so Dean could hear him better. “Now your brother, he kinda takes after your mother.  _ Jesus _ , she was a nosy bitch.” 

    “You - You’ve been setting the fires.” 

    “Bingo.” A sick grin spread across the man’s face. “Most people call me Mr.Daemon, but you can call me Azazel. For however long you’ll still be breathing.” Azazel stood, gingerly walking around the gaping hole, toeing the edge. “That Carbon Monoxide? A little gift from me, it was meant for you, but that boy toy of yours happened to pick it up instead. Added bonus in my book. So was that other kid. Abel, was his name? Can’t forget his brother and little Adam!” 

    “You sick bastard!” Dean cried out. 

    “Oh, c’mon Dean-o, there’s that fight! Now if you could just hurry up and die, so I can close up shop here.” He paused, “you know I do like you, Dean-o. But I happen to like your brother a little more.” 

    “You stay away from him!” Dean’s growl turned into a strangled hiss as he jarred his leg. 

    “Calm down there son, that leg of your’s looks pretty nasty.” Azazel backed up. 

    “Alastair,” Dean breathed. “He was your compliance. And Gordon… you just happened to rope him in.” 

    “Can’t do everything myself. It’s called strategy,” Azazel tapped his head. “You’re smarter than you look Dean. While your father was tailing me, blind for revenge.” A chair from the third floor flopped onto the ground near Azazel. “I’d really love to chat more Dean-o, but I must be going.” The dark man pulled at his jacket and slipped on his O2 mask once more. “And you’re busy dying. See you in hell, boy.” 

    With that Dean was alone. He waited several moments before he pushed himself onto his back. Teeth clenched through pain, he lifted the radio. “You get all that?” 

    The voice that rang in his ears belonged to none other than agent Hendrickson.  _ “Every word was recorded.”  _

__ His brother spoke next, as he pushed himself into a sitting position.  _ “Great work Dean, now get your ass out here.”  _

__ Dean let the radio drag as he pulled himself toward a wall mostly with just one arm. He was panting once he got to his destination. He set his helmet and O2 mask down. Blood coated the inside of the mask.

_ “Dean? Dean you still there?”  _ Sam’s voice was laced with panic. Dean was thankful that his brother was talking. Otherwise, the darkness would win.  _ “Dean!”  _

    “Still here Sammy,” He sucked in the limited oxygen around him. 

_ “Why do you sound- did you take your mask off? Put it back on dammit!”  _

__ “I’m afraid I won’t be walking out of this one, Sammy.” 

_ “What? What the hell does that mean?”  _

__ “My legs busted,” Dean glances down at the mangled limb. He grunted as he took his jacket off. The wound was producing a steady stream of blood. It was probably dislocated too. If he looked close enough he could see bone. Dean wrapped the jacket around his busted leg. “If I move too far now, I’ll make it worse. Bleed out before I reach any kind of exit.” 

_ “Dean, what’s your 20?”  _ Benny begged. Dean could only guess that his friend had beat everyone else to the question. 

    “I- I don’t know.” He looked around. Flames licked up the sides of walls. “I don’t know.” The tears cooled his heated face. 

_ “That’s fine son, can you describe anything?”  _ Dean smiled at Rufus’s voice. 

    “A fucking chair.” There wasn’t a goddamn thing that was distinguishable for a specific area. Dean looked at the cracks in his radio. “Hey, Sammy?” 

_ “Yeah, Dean?”  _ There was that desperation again. 

    “Keys to the Impala are in my locker.” 

_ “No, Dean no. Don’t do this.”  _

__ “We don’t have time, Sam. My radio is beat and I don’t know how much longer we got.” 

_ “Just tell us a little more about where you’re at! Everyone’s ready to go back in and save you.”  _

__ “Chief, is the building clear?” 

_ “Not with you still in it, no.”  _

__ “But everyone else is out?” 

_ “There are still a few stranglers coming from around the other shops. But the law office? Everyone but you.”  _

__ He couldn’t stop the tears streaming down his face, but he could try and keep them from his voice. “Good. That’s good. Right now's the best time for attack. Spray this inferno head on.” 

_ “No! Dean we’re coming in to get you,”  _ Garth shouted. 

    They couldn’t see his sad smile. “No, you’re not. You come busting down walls and the whole structure could fall. Now I’m telling you,  _ back down _ . Thought you boys knew how to listen to your Captain?” More debris tumbled through the floor. He was caved in.

_ “You said two-in and two-out, bastard!”  _ Benny growled. The tears practically streamed with his voice.

    “Whoops,” Dean rasped. “Guess I’ve always had a hypocritical streak.” It was hard to breathe. Dean’s chest was tight with each intake of breath. He still had so much to say. Dean lifted the mask to his face for a few seconds. When he placed it down again, the blood had gotten worse. 

“I know it’s too early Sam, but I think you might need to find another best man. I gotta rain check.” He was imagining how the Grand Canyon looked at sunrise. Sam beside him on the hood of the Impala. The stars mapped out over the late night Texas sky. 

_ “No, I can’t. I don’t want anyone else standing next to me but you.”  _ His brother’s voice was starting to break up. Dean didn’t have the heart to tell him that their time was almost over. 

    “There’s this baseball in my closet that I found the other day. I was gonna give it to Adam.” 

_ “Dean stay with us- s-stay. Here.”  _ He strapped the mask on for a little bit more. To give himself the time he knew he didn’t have. 

__ “I’m  _ proud _ of us.”  

    The radio was silent. It stayed that way. He let the sobs go. He beat the wall beside him. What stopped him, was the buzzing that came from his jacket. Dean hurriedly pulled out the device to find another text from his mother.  **_Please talk to me, I can explain._ **

**** There were two bars of reception and 38% of battery life left. He was gonna take it. The tone only rang twice before it picked up.  _ “Dean?”  _

__ “Hey, Mom.” He chuckled. “You don’t know how good it is to hear your voice.” He opted back and forth between using the O2 mask and talking. 

_ “Dean is something wrong?”  _

__ “Why’d you ask that?” 

_ “Just yesterday you were ignoring me.”  _

__ “Bad day at work,” Dean sighed. The tears were making a reappearance. “I have a lot sitting on my chest, and thought it was about time…”  _ Time for everything.  _

_    “About that Dean,”  _ his mother’s voice was soft. He tried to commit the sound to memory why he sucked in what he could of his oxygen. There must be something wrong with the system.  _ “After they pulled me from the fire, they told me I couldn’t go home. That I’d be putting you in danger. They were right. Turns out this maniac’s MO was to go after survivors. I’d seen his face. A glimpse, but it was enough. He wouldn’t have stopped until I was dead. The three of you would be safer thinking the same. So they placed me in the protection program. With the Hunters.”  _

__ “What you missed out on… my childhood? I didn’t have one so Sammy could. I was his brother, mother, and father all wrapped up into one. And that wasn’t  _ fair _ . I had to grow up so Sam didn’t have to. Dad drug us all over the country, he was out for blood. Because of that, he got himself killed.” Dean clenched his teeth. Out of pain, to hold back tears, out of anger. He really didn’t know anymore. “All because we thought you died. I hate you. I hate you for that.” His vision blurred, tears dripped off his chip. 

_ “I’m sorry, Dean. I’m so-”  _

    “And I love you. I love you because I can’t help it.” He watched the red and orange glow move up the walls. “‘Cause you’re my mom, and I- I can’t help it. That’s why it’s okay. It’s okay, Mom.” Charred papers floated down, scattering everywhere. “I forgive you.” 

_ “Dean?”  _ His mother tried to interrupt, but he was on a roll now. 

    “I gotta go now mom,” he had to shake his head to ward off the haze. “I gotta go, but I just wanted to talk to you. To lift a few things from our shoulders.” On a whim, he whispered, “I love you.” 

_ “I love you too, Dean.”  _ She was unsure, maybe a little concerned. Ignorance is bliss. 

    “Call you later, Mom.” He was the first to hang up. Several things from the floors above crashed into whatever lay below them. They’d be opening up the hoses anytime now, and there was still one more rain check Dean had to use for the day. He had to keep the tears at bay once more. His phone now read 29%. It was 8 o’clock. 

    Like his mother, Dean didn’t have to wait long before they picked up. 

_ “Hello, Dean.”  _

__ “You lied to me.” Dean feigned a healthy mix of hurt and anger as much as he could. “Your birthday is in September, not November. I missed it again.” 

_    “I didn’t tell you anything about my birthday.”  _

    “Oh, whoops. I just gave away my party trick, didn’t I?” Dean managed a sorrowful chuckle. “I was actually calling about our date tonight. I might have to take a rain check.” His head pounded. He sucked in O2 from his mask, not getting very much.  “Something came up at work-” Dean broke off coughing. He lifted the mask back to his mouth. There was a sputter of refreshing air before it quit. 

_ No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.  _ Not  _ now.  _

__ The oxygen tank had been compromised. Dean was out of air. “Son of a _bitch_!” 

_ “Dean? Dean are you at a fire right now?”  _

__ His voice softened. “What gave it away?” 

    Probably the fact that things were literally falling apart around him. 

_ “Where’s your mask?”  _

__ Dean didn’t answer. He was soaking in his husband’s voice as his fist kept slamming into the wall. 

_ “Why haven’t you- Dean… Dean don’t leave.”  _ Castiel sobbed.  _ “Our date… you promised.”  _

__ “Maybe, maybe we should move it to later. How does that sound, Angel? How does 10 sound?” 

_ “Okay, okay,”  _ Cas sniffled,  _ “and you can come home. We can have it here at home.”  _

__ He closed his eyes. “That sounds good, Angel. ‘S perfect. It- it’s fallin’ down like snow...” His knuckles still swung at the wall. Dean was holding the phone up with his useless arm. It burned, but he needed the pain. “I’m comin’ home, baby. You know you’ll always be my Angel?” 

_  “You’re forever my Hero.” _ Cas wept.  _ “It’s okay Dean. It’s alright, it’s alright. You can let go.”   _

    “I’ll see you then, Cas. I’ll see you then” 

_  “You can let go, it’s okay. I lo-”  _

    The phone cut off. 

    He was out of time. He needed more. He needed more time goddamnit! 

    “ _ Goddamnit!”  _ Dean chucked the worthless phone. Any further cursing was replaced by a coughing fit that brought Dean to his side. So he lay there thinking of his family. Those running around outside. Arguing with Rufus to come and find him. His mother. His husband. His brother.

_ You can let go. It’s alright. You can let go.  _

__

His lungs were heavy, sprawled out beside all the other rubble. His vision was greying. He could feel it pulling at him now. It was okay. Cas said it was okay for him to let go. He’d be free from the pain. It would be easy. To slip. Fall so far he would never get back up. He was ready, Dean knew this now. It was his time.

    The wall at his back shook. He swore he felt the chilling October air brush over him. A cold was tapped into him over the heat that encased where he was trapped. 

    A frozen brush that kept coming. There was a minuscule light that was enlarging itself. 

 

And suddenly, letting go wasn’t so easy anymore.

 

…

 

His heart thudded so hard against his chest it was hard to breathe. Cas didn’t know how he made it to the Emergency Room doors in one piece, but he did. 

    He rushed into the lobby frantically asking the nurse for his husband. 

    “Name?” She asked. 

_ What was she not understanding?  _

__ “I can find him, sir, but I need a name.” 

    “Castiel?” 

    Cas spun around so fast he nearly hit the floor. “Where is he, Michael? Where is he?” 

    Michael’s eyes softened. His white doctor’s coat was folded over his arm. He was just getting off shift. Surely he’d know where Dean was. “Cas…” 

    Cas allowed Micheal to lead him further into the hallway. “How bad is it?” Castiel had left the house in such a rush he had grabbed ahold of Dean’s leather jacket that had been left at the house. His tie was askew and backward. “Where is he?” He questioned again. 

    Michael swallowed. “H-he’s not here, Cas.” 

    “That can’t be true!” 

    His cousin shook his head. “He’s not here. He would have been here by now if…” 

    “No,  _ no _ .” The tears were back, streaming down his face. “ _ No, _ ” 

    Michael stepped forward, wrapping Cas in his arms. He sent another text to Gabriel. 

    Cas sobbed, being held up by his cousin. 

 

_ He’s not here.  _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (the note I put for myself before I wrote the chapter --> This will destroy me - it fucking did) 
> 
> Dear reader,  
>  Writing this last chapter has killed me. You may not think it’s true and currently trying to beg for characters’ lives, and I’m right there with you. As I was writing Dean’s goodbyes all I wanted was for him to put the fucking phone down and try.. Thought, it’d be nearly impossible. I’ve known how this was gonna end since I started (yes I am evil, cruel - I’ve known that) and I’m freaking sitting here hoping for the same freaking thing! I don’t know what to do with this… I’m having a freaking emotional storm running through me. Again I KNOW how this ends and I’m upset right now! 
> 
> (I wasn’t kidding) THIS STORY FREAKING BROKE ME. 
> 
> (Still not kidding)...


	31. For the Love of Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 28 2.0
> 
> Dean’s Missing: The crew finds out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am evil. But not quite in this chapter. Sorry if it seems choppy ...
> 
> I wanted to add these in, but some were just too short. Plus I prefer not to jump around too much with POV in a chapter 
> 
> Also, any questions you guys have? I’ve always wanted to do a Q&A…   
> Y’all wanna know the itty bitty details that no one pointed out?   
> Find out that one scene I "messed up" on?   
> Ask away! 
> 
> And no, I won’t give you spoilers for the Epilogue. Y'all have to wait for that, I just happened to have this nearly done before I wrote the last chapter.

~ **chapter 28’s missing scenes** ~

 

Cole Trenton smiled as his eldest daughter Ella waved to her friends as they met with her teachers. His youngest, Sofia, entertained herself by playing with his hair as she sat on his shoulders. People mulled around the gymnasium, or into teacher’s rooms. Jemma, his wife smiled at him. He and Sofia waved back. They were beckoned over by Jemma and the teachers she was talking with. 

    “Mr.Trenton, I hear that you’re a firefighter.” Ella’s art teacher shakes his hand. The history teacher joins in as well. “That is a very brave profession. Your daughter has a series of drawings related to such.” 

    Cole rubbed the back of his neck, poking Sofie while he was at it. “As my Captain often puts it: someone has to.” 

    “Is that Winchester boy a Captain now?” The portly man finally joined in. He had a dark mustache and square-rimmed glasses resting on the edge of his nose. His nametag read  _ Mr.Strife.  _

__ “Yes sir, a dam- darn good one.” He quickly corrected with a smack to his arm from Jemma. At that moment his pager rang out the warning of a call. His phone buzzed furiously inside his pocket. “Speaking of work,” he gave a strained smile as he gently placed Sofie back on her own two feet. “Gotta take this,” He wasn’t very far away as he accepted the call. “This is Trenton,” 

_ “Cole we need you to come in.”  _

__ “Jody?” His steps faltered. “What’s wrong?” He froze in the middle of the gym. People passing by with smiles on their faces. 

    He wasn’t going to make it to the hallway. Not as Jody started explaining the situation. God, it was  _ bad _ . 

    He pivoted, walking back toward his family with quick strides. “I’ll be there in five.” With that he pocketed his phone, kissing Jenna and his girls on the cheek. “I gotta take this,” he explained. They often drove separately for this reason. Cole had lights in the grill of the Jeep for this kind of thing. 

    “Is everything alright?” Jenna questioned, Sofie clinging to her now. 

    Cole paused. “Ye- No. No, it’s not.” He looked into his wife’s concerned eyes. “I’ll see you and the kids later.” He gave her one last kiss before hurrying out of school to the Jeep. The moment he started it up was the moment he flipped the lights on. 

 

~~ 

 

Garth was enjoying his time with Bess’s family. He took a liking to Reverend Jim Myers from the moment he walked through the man’s threshold. The family seemed to be taking to him as well. 

    Garth shared a few of his work stories, talking about life in Lawrence. One of the cousins set down a delicious pie in front of him. He wasn’t one to turn down food. 

    “So there I am staring at all these balloons in the conference room. Two thoughts are going through my mind.” Garth counts them on his fingers, “how am I gonna get to those papers, and how in the  _ hell  _ they managed to get this done.” He chuckled with the small crowd. “Then it hits me, half of them are full of hot air anyway.” 

    During the eruption of laughter, Garth’s phone rings for the third time that night. By the time he realized it once more, he’d missed it. Since he wasn’t on call and the fact that it was getting late, Garth was starting to get concerned. He and Bess had already made arrangements to stay. That had already been part of the plan. 

    “Was that important, son?” Jim asked politely. 

    Garth tried to brush it off. “No, I don’t think so.” 

    He wanted to swallow the words when a text from Benny read across the screen:  **_Answer the damn phone._ **

    So, when it rang a moment later, he did. “I should take this, though.” His brows furrowed as he stood. 

    “Garth?” Bess looked up at him with big blue eyes. 

    Garth’s heart dropped at the words coming through the other end of the line. He had to sit down. 

    “No, no that can’t be right…” A pause that held the room captive. “A-all right, I’m headed in. Give me an hour or two.” 

    “Something the matter?” Jim folded his hands. 

    Garth nodded before looking at Bess. “I need to go. There’s an emergency at work.” 

    “Can’t they handle it without you?” She seemed to regret those words the moment she saw the shine in Garth’s eyes. 

    “No. No, this is an all hands on deck situation.” 

 

~~

 

Charlie was having the most epic dream. It started her along with her newest girlfriend in Oz. It was interrupted by the first couple buzzes of her phone. 

    “That important?” Dorothy questioned from beside her underneath the covers. Dean could be mad later - that is,  _ if _ he finds out. 

    “God I hope not,” she grinned dreamily. Charlie had just rolled back over when it started ringing again, this time succeeded by a text. Charlie unstuck her mouth from Dorothy’s. “Sorry, I should at least check it out.” 

    “You’re fine,” Dorothy breathed. 

    Charlie’s eyes were assaulted with the brightness of her phone. Though the words that displayed on the screen woke her up in record time. 

    “Holy  _ shit _ ! I need- I need to go.” She jerked into a sitting position, throwing on any article of clothing that was closest.  

    “Charlie?” Dorothy asked sleepily. 

    “Go back to sleep. I’ll be back… eventually.” On her way out Charlie grabbed her paramedic jacket. “I gotta work thing.” 

 

~~

 

Sam was snoring comfortably with his arm wrapped around Jess. He had a load to take on in the morning, and as his brother dubbed it, needed his beauty sleep. It was Jess shaking him that brought him from deep slumber. She had turned on one of the bedside lamps. She looked down at her fiance with sad eyes. 

    “What is it?” He murmured groggily.  

    “Jody says its important.” She handed him the phone. 

    Sam faintly remembers his ringtone going off before he had faded back to the depths of sleep. 

    The words that came from the other line cause Sam to slowly straighten. Concern marked his brow. “I-I’ll be right there. I need to call my boss… you did? Thanks, Jody. Give me five.” Sam shucked off his sleep pants and pulled a random pair of jeans from his drawer. 

    “What’s wrong?” Jess was sitting up now. 

    “Everything.  _ God _ , can  _ anything  _ go right?” Sam sat at the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. 

    Jess scooted over, rubbing his large shoulders. Sam took her hand in his and squeezed. 

 

~~

 

Ellen was leaning on the bar with both hands clasped together. 

    “C’mon Mom, this is  _ Dean  _ we’re talking about.” Jo poked her mother with her elbow as she passed by with a tray of drinks. “You’re just worried for nothing.” 

    “Little lady’s gotta point,” Ash shrugged. 

    “I hope you know, neither of you are helping.” 

    Jo came back, setting down the empty tray. There were around five people in the bar, all of whom knew how Ellen liked to have a quiet night on Sundays. “Well, how ‘bout this. If something were wrong, don’t you think we’d already know about it?” 

    Ellen signed. “Fair point.” 

    “You’ve already sent him and Cas plenty of voicemails. Cas is probably asleep by now seeing as it is 6 after 10. I’d put money down that they boys just got caught up.” Ash crossed his arms, leaning against the bar. 

    When the landline started to buzz off the hook, Ash started for it. “I’ll get it, Ash,” Jo called 

    “Already halfway.” For some reason, these two always had to create small competitions. 

    Ellen pushed them both off, “Get back to work, slackers.  _ I  _ got it.” 

    They both rolled there eyes as the older woman lifted the phone to her ear. 

    She was reaching for a glass when she answered, “Roadhouse, Ellen speaking.” 

    Ash and Jo lingered for a few moments before turning to  _ actually  _ do their job. They only took a single step before they heard a glass shatter. 

    Ellen’s eyes were wide, hand over her mouth. 

    “Mom?” Jo rushed over, almost stepping on the broken glass. 

    “What’s up?” Ash grabbed a towel, cleaning up the glass before tossing it into the trash. 

    Ellen shakily set the landline back on its hook. She took in a deep breath. “Alright, here's the deal. Finish up your drinks, dump it out, I don’t care what you do. Roadhouse is closed.” 

    People groaned, opting to leave quickly than to stay and face the owner’s wrath. 

    “Mom?” Ellen turned to find her daughter’s eyes round and doe-like. 

    “You both need to get in to work. That was the Sheriff, she wants the whole crew for a missing person, search and rescue.” She offered Jo a warm smile. A turn of her mouth that hid the fear that had been building all night. 

    “What if Dean comes?” 

    “I’ll open up just for him. Now get goin’.” 

 

Ellen waited until she heard Jo’s truck pull away before she broke. She slid to the floor with her head in her hands. 

 

~~

 

Benny set down a plate of ribs in the middle of his table. They had moved it so there was more room. With everything in place, he sat next to Andrea with her parents across from them. Elizabeth and Matthew Kormos were not easy guests to please so far. Benny was just crossing his fingers that he’d be able to pull off some kind of miracle by the end of the night. His six-year-old retriever-shepherd mix yipped outside a few times. Colt had gotten tripped up during a call a few months back and was finally back into work condition. While Dean was out for the count, Benny had brought Colt to the station as an extra hand - or paw. 

    “So, Benny, what is it that you do again? A first responder?” 

    “Yes sir, going on ten years now.” 

    “That’s a pretty demanding profession.” 

    “It is, but my daddy and his daddy before him have been running into danger. It’s in my blood.” 

    Matthew hummed. 

    “My Captain use to say, ‘Someone has to be the idiot to run into the burning building, or no one else will.’” 

    “Smart man,” Liza commented. 

    “He is, no one better to have leading us than him.” 

    “You talk highly of him, that Captain of yours.” 

    “Everyone on our shift and at the firehouse does. We all respect him.” 

    “And what about you, Benny? Any thought of promotion?” 

    “ _ Dad _ ,” Andrea hissed. 

    Benny met her eyes, showing it was fine. He’d let this man give him the third degree all night if that was what it would take to receive his blessing. He’d gotten his fair share of burns in his time. “That will come in time. Either when the man above me retires or is promoted again. I’ve just been upped to Lieutenant, I’m happy where I’m at.” 

    Matthew took a bite of meat. He chewed patiently before swallowing and continued. “I’m sure Andrea’s already told you that I was in the Army.” Benny nodded. “Call me old-fashioned, but I'm used to the fight for that next step up.” Benny’s phone went off from on the kitchen counter. Everyone’s head turned to the sudden ringing. His pager went off from beside it. 

    “All due respect Mr.Kormos, this is a fire station we’re talking about. Not a military platoon.” Benny swiftly walked over to the device, having set a certain tone for the Sheriff's office number. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

    The Kormos family lowered their voices in what seemed to be a quiet conversation. One look to Andrea and Benny knew her father had muttered a comment that didn’t sit well with his daughter. 

    “Lafitte speaking, could I call you back?” Benny felt Matthew’s eyes follow him. “Right now? Shit man, I haven’t even-” he cut off abruptly. His tan skin somehow managing to pale. “I hope you’re joking about this, man.” He swallowed before striding into the living room. From one of the shelves, he picked up Colt’s vest. “I-Is there any word on…?” He cast worry filled eyes to his girlfriend. 

    Andrea’s brows furrowed in concern. Her lips formed a single word,  _ ‘who?’  _

__ “I’ll be right in, make sure to get something of his.” With that Benny opened the glass sliding door to the backyard. “Colt! Come ‘ere.” The shepherd looking dog skittered to his master’s feet. He sat, ready to have the vest put on and go to work.

    “Ben-” 

    “So you’re up and leaving? Haven’t even touched your plate, son.” 

    “Yes, I am. Sorry I have to cut dinner short. Tends to happen in my line of profession.” 

    “So this has happened before?” Mat raised a brow. 

    Andrea didn’t meet her father’s eye.

    Benny leads his dog to the door leading to the garage. Opening his truck door he commanded, “Colt mount up.” 

    The dog jumped right in before he closed the door. Benny went back inside to grab his keys. Mat had this glint in his eyes that could mean trouble. 

    “You’re actually leaving,” he scoffed. 

    “Occupational hazard.” 

    “Do you know when to tell them no?” 

    “Yes, sir, I do. Never.” Benny stood his ground as he snatched up his keys. “It’s called 'first responder' for a reason Mr. Kormos. And right now my best friend, my  _ Captain _ , is out there. He’s probably scared out of his mind. Maybe even bleeding out. I’d like to go and find him to bring him home.” He paused before walking out the door again. 

    “More to say?” He was deliberately trying to push the younger man over the edge. Benny could see that now.  

    “Yeah. Thank you for your service, and good night.” 

...

 

Benny was one of the first at the parking lot where it happened. Stepping from his truck he tried to compose himself. They had taken the body away, but there were still blood stains that shined in the moon’s light. A puddle of dark liquid not far. The coffee cup it once inhabited was crushed. Cole, Charlie, Jo, Ash, and the Sheriff herself were the only others here. Sam wasn’t far out, while it would still be a half hour before Garth was back in town. 

    “What the fuck happened?” Benny asked, holding Colt at bay by his leash.  

    Jody looked him over. “Attack of some kind. Adam was rushed off to surgery, Cain…” 

    Benny’s heart was heavy. “And Dean’s missing.” 

    Jody ran a hand through her short hair. “There’s no way to know if any of this is his.” She muttered about the blood. 

    “Got anything that was his?” 

    Jody handed him one of Dean’s LFD shirts. “Rufus gave me his locker combo.” 

    “Shit,” Charlie cursed herself. “I didn’t even think of that.” 

    “That ain’t your fault. Split into pairs, we only got one dog, but Dean could have crisscrossed all over the place. It’s better if we spread out anyway. Maybe we can spot something that wasn’t noticed before. Bastard could still be around here. Anything.” 

    It was then that Sam pulled up, jumping out of his vehicle.  

    “Right on time Sam, you’ll come with Jody and me.” Benny crouched down to Colt’s level. “Get a good sniff boy.” 

    Colt buried his nose in Dean’s shirt. After several moments of letting the dog take in the scent, Benny unclipped the leash. “Go, boy, go find Dean.” 

    Straight away Colt went to work. His nose to the pavement as he padded down the sidewalk. 

 

They’d been at it for hours. Colt seemed on a pretty forward path in and out of town until movement in the nearby ally distracted him. That alarmed Benny, Colt was never sidetracked. The dog lifted his head, emitting a growl from deep in his throat. Jody raised her weapon when a figure stepped out. 

    “Put your hands where I can see them!” 

    When the figure tried to rush off, Colt brought him down. This tipped Benny off that this must be the bastard they were looking for. But still no Dean. Benny was the first to him, yanking the smaller figure to their feet. Gordon. Gordon fucking Walker stared back at him. 

    “Where is he?” 

    Jody yanked the man’s hands behind him, clicking the cuffs over his wrists.  

    “I said where is he!” 

    “I don’t know!” Gordon shouted back. “He fucking ran off.” 

    “Let him rot in jail,” Benny spat. Jody happily yanked the man away. 

    “That was… too easy.” Sam murmured. 

    “He wanted to be caught,” Benny concluded. 

    “Still no Dean.” 

    “No,” Benny turned to Sam. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” 

    “I think so.” They both started to turn back to head to the cemetery when Sam’s phone buzzed. 

    “Dean?” Benny hoped. 

    “No, no, it’s Cas.” Sam breathed. “But he has Dean…” 

    Benny’s shoulders slumped in relief, he had to take a knee before he fell over. 

    Colt padded over, licking his master’s face. 

    “Good boy. Good boy, Colt.” 

 

They met back up at the vehicles. 

    “We know where he’s at,” Benny announced. Colt sat at his feet. 

    The group let out a collective breath that no one had known they’d been holding. 

    “Where is he?” Garth asked. 

    “He’s with Cas,” Sam supplied. “But Cas asked me not to bring everybody.” 

    “Meaning?” Cole pushed. 

    “I’m headed over there alone. I don’t know what kind of state he’s in, and if it’s not hospital worthy I’ll bring him to the Roadhouse. You guys can wait there.” 

    “Let’s not crowd him tonight,” Benny broke in. “God knows what he’s been through tonight. The last thing we need is to override the system.” 

    All his co-workers were disappointed. Though, each and every one of them listened. They took up two booths at the Roadhouse and sipped on their respective drinks waiting for their Captain. 

    All for the love of Dean. 

 


	32. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, just like chapter 30, I had this planned from the very start too ;) 
> 
> This is it, guys. The final stretch. I don’t want to let go of this quite yet…   
>  I’ll always love this story <3 
> 
> I'm in freaking denial that its over. Whelp here goes nothin'.

**_March 5, 2016_ **

 

It was a sunny day. Bright, full of laughter and warmth. A kind of warmth given off by people and not the burning flames of fire. Castiel only wished he could enjoy it. Everyone else around him obviously was. The bitterness of winter had finally slipped into the renewal of spring. Flowers bloomed. The grass became a vibrant green as birds flew above head with life filled songs.

    Cas hadn’t been able to find joy since October. Any faith he had previously he had once tried to hold onto. Now, it was nowhere to be seen. 

    On this jubilant spring day, Castiel sat on a park bench, watching as the rest of the world still revolved without his husband. How he was being dragged along with it. Hands clasped in front of him and elbows on his knees. No one had told Cas about Dean’s death. Not even mentioning a funeral. Hardly anyone was speaking to him. 

    Sam hadn’t called him since before the office fire. Adam… Adam had been crushed. Mary had gone radio silent once again. Benny had tried. He had come over a few times. He’d gone so far as to drag Cas home to have supper with him and Andrea. Benny had called Cas the day he had proposed. Though all interactions had some form of strain. As if every relationship had changed since Dean had been gone. It seemed all the more real that Castiel didn’t have much of Dean’s favorite things. He didn’t have the amulet. Not even the Impala. It was driving him up a wall. He couldn’t even look at their wedding photo anymore. 

    Cas didn’t even understand while he still came here. This was an outing he and Dean would have taken. How could the world be so cruel? How did a single soul continue to walk with such normality? Why hasn't anyone bothered to tell him about Dean? 

    Then again Castiel was insignificant compared to the raging war that had to be taking place inside the courthouse. Azazel Demon hadn’t been caught until the month before in early February. The system was determined to put this man away for the rest of his life, and came up with a court date that was as close as legally possible. Castiel didn’t know much, but he knew Dean’s actions had had a major role in that. Collecting evidence that should catch this demon of a man in cold blood. Not to forget  Alastair Nomed, the alleged partner. He was already in prison. They dragged him and Gordon walker back on trial yesterday to sit with the devil himself. There were federal agents all over this case. One of whom had interrupted Dean once during their lunch. Davies was his name. They had several speakers under their care that were involved in this case. One apparently who could end it all with a single testimony. An expert and star witness they had been proclaimed. That single testimony from the slew of others was the case-closer. 

    Today, in the aftermath of the trial, there was a ceremony being held. Those of Truck 67 and majority of the other firehouses were attending as a fellow firefighter was awarded for bravery shown at the office fire. They were also saluting their brothers and sisters who had fallen. 

    Cas didn’t want to find out what kind of reaction he’d have if he stepped close to the place his husband once worked at. To see the faces of the other family and loved ones he held close all in one place. 

    No, here he sat on a park bench. He was wondering when they’d tell him his husband was dead. Or had hey forgotten like Dean did? Or, had, Dean remembered by the end. Now that the case was closed, he questioned when they’d have a funeral. 

    As far as he knew, he had no tears left to cry. He left them tucked away with October and November. 

 

    Castiel would get his answer moments later. 

 

He could spot the Class A uniform from a mile away. A man in uniform when concerning another was never good. Dean had taught him that. This fireman moved determinedly the concrete path in Castiel’s direction. Cas couldn’t take it. He blatantly ignored the first responder heading his way. He even thought about walking away. By the time he was about to stand, the other man sat heavily on the bench beside him. Cas refused to look his way as the man set his cap between them. 

    “Y’know, I’ve had a lot of time to think,” that voice was rough and gravelly. As if he’d been talking and laughing all day. Then again anyone wearing a uniform like that would sound like that to Cas. “You never answered my question.”

    Cas decided to bite, “what was that?” 

    “If it hurt when you fell from Heaven.” 

    Any previous ability to breathe was suddenly gone. This couldn’t be. It was just too  _ perfect _ to be real. It couldn’t plausibly be real. Though the intensity of the green eyes that burned into his soul begged to differ. 

    “Also during that time I played this out over and over in my head, and came up with another question I’d like to know the answer to.” The Dean in front of him levered himself up from the bench. He shuffled away, favoring his right. He lowered to his knees. He dug into his pocket, pulling out a golden ring. “Will you come rescue me one more time, Angel?” 

    It was real. Oh good God, it was real. Only Dean, the hater of anything so chick flick worthy could come up with something like that. The tears that he had thought were long ago dried up came springing to his eyes. Castiel threw himself to the ground and encased Dean in his arms. 

    “I couldn’t feel it.” He was holding back full on sobs now. “Because I had been falling for you.”                  

    “Who woulda thunk… Took me eight years to finally get a straight answer out of you. Besides ‘I do.’” 

    “Who woulda thunk,” Cas repeated with a tear-stained laugh. “Shut up and kiss me already.” 

    Without another word, Dean captured Cas’s mouth with his lips. The amount of relief that flooded through him caused him to lean on the fireman a bit more. 

 

**_October 19, 2015_ **

 

_ You can let go. It’s alright. You can let go.  _

__

His lungs were heavy, sprawled out beside all the other rubble. His vision was greying. He could feel it pulling at him now. It was okay. Cas said it was okay for him to let go. 

    The wall at his back shook. He swore he felt the chilling October air brush over him. A cold was tapped into him over the heat that encased where he was trapped. 

    A frozen brush that kept coming. There was a minuscule light that was enlarging itself. 

 

And suddenly, letting go wasn’t so easy anymore.

    He could  _ breathe _ . The light contrasted to that of the flames that were engulfing the room. Dean knew it now, it was  _ sunlight _ . He reached behind him as if he could touch it, and he did. Tears rolled over the bridge of his nose. His fingers found the crack in the wall. The opening that had been weakened by his own hand. It was hope. Dean pulled at the drywall, turning himself over. A cry of joy turned to a yelp when his leg shifted. His head felt light, but his hands deftly grabbed for the wall, for the alleyway beyond him. A metal rod became a tool to help tare his way out. By the time he made a dent, the jacket around his leg had caught fire. He was  _ really  _ out of time now. Dean jerked off his heavy turnout coat, trying to pat out the fire. The scream that ripped through his throat was weak. Blood and sweat started to sting his eye as he took the suspenders to make an improvised tourniquet. Fire lashed at the heels of his boots, causing him to leave his heavy coat where it lay as he forced himself through the hole into the outside world. His lungs inflated immediately with fresh air. With power in his lungs he coughed until he was gasping. Still he pulled himself away as much as he could. The adrenaline wore off alarmingly fast. Siding and several other materials lay around him. He could hear shouting voices, the thunder of several hoses opening fire on the assault to save the building. Or by now, the ones around it. There was the unmistakable sound of a helicopter. It must have been called in for a really bad case. The ambos have to be overrun with how bad this fire was. 

    The flashing red and blue spilled into the ally he lay in. It was all starting to blur. Dean picked up the nearest chunk of debris throwing it a few feet away from where he lay. He tried again, making it farther. The third try only hit the wall of the law office. His limbs were becoming heavy. He was  _ so  _ close.  _ So fucking close _ . 

    Numb fingers ghosted over his pocket, releasing an object that he tossed weakly. The quarter clinked against the pavement and rolled on. In fact, in rolled right into someone’s foot. A figure who in their own distress had to walk away from the scene. This person would be Charlie Bradbury. Dean watched as the familiar build rushed to his side. Before he could blink -or, maybe he had- another joined in. This man was much bigger than Charlie’s stature. His skin dark, and shoulders broad. 

    “You can’t tell them.” He grunted. Charlie peaked at the wrapped wound. This caused Dean to jerk and rasp a cry. 

    “Why the hell not?” 

    “If Azazel finds out…” Victor didn’t have to finish. 

    Charlie picked up her radio. “Tessa grab a stretcher. Take a bag, we need that ‘copter. The agent found a bad one from another building.  _ Hurry _ .” 

    There was the creaking of wheels. The pounding of footsteps. 

    He couldn’t breathe. 

    “Tess get over here! We need to intubate, he’s choking-” 

    The world blurred around him. Something slid into his throat. Air entered his lungs. 

    “We need your help to get him to get him to the airlift.” They were moving him, but he couldn’t make a sound anymore. “Put the shock blanket over his legs,” 

    Whatever was draped over him. Dean hadn’t even noticed how cold it was. 

    “Hang on. Just hang in there, Dean.” Charlie. He wanted to smile for her, show that it was alright. It would all be fine. He was lifted up. Charlie climbed up with him, straddling his torso. 

    “I need you there just in case he gets worse. And you, agent, help push the stretcher. We’ll get to the helicopter faster. Ready?” 

    Whatever Tessa was planning, Dean could get behind. Somewhere in his muddled mind, he made a mental note never to get in her way. At least he assumed he had. 

    “Stay with us Dean, we’re almost there.” 

    When had they started moving?

    Dean saw it then, the sunset. He knew there was a large group of people to his left, but he looked right. The blending colors of the fading sun made him tired. It was peaceful. 

 

_ It’s okay, it’s alright. You can let go. You can let go.  _

__ “No, no, no…  _ Dean _ ,” Charlie whimpered. 

    He was fading. He was letting go. He suddenly had the urge to brush those red strands out of her face. When had he closed his eyes? Oh well, that didn’t matter. There was a pressure that pushed the air from his lungs in intervals. Then the air was pushed back in. One of his ribs cracked from the compressions delivered to his chest. 

    “Fight  _ dammit _ !” Charlie cried. “ _ Fight _ , Dean.  _ Please _ .” She begged. He was lifted again, something small, cold and round placed in his hands. A door was slammed shut. 

 

_ It’s okay. It’s okay.  _ He couldn’t see the sunset anymore, but  _ that was okay _ . 

 

He was going home to Cas. 

 

_ “ _ **_Dean_ ** _!”  _

 

Cas said it was okay. That he could come home. He’d see his angel. 

 

**_March 5, 2016_ **

 

    “Cas,” Dean murmured into his husband's dark mussed hair. 

    “Oh! Sorry, was I holding too tight?” Cas pulled himself away, assessing Dean for damage. 

    Dean’s lips curled. “No, no Cas, not that. You’re gonna have to help me up.” 

    Castiel’s brows furrowed. 

    “My leg, it’s busted. That’s why I have the cane.” 

    Cas blushed, looking away sheepily. “I didn’t see that.” 

    “Yeah, I noticed. But seriously, we should get back up.” 

    Cas stood, reaching down for his arm. “What happened?” 

    Dean grunted as he stood, before hobbling to the bench. Once there he shifted his leg so it was outstretched. 

    Cas hesitantly sat beside him, setting the cap on his lap. 

    “Bone snapped, my knee popped from its socket.” 

    Castiel nodded, hands running the rim of the hat. 

    “I-I didn’t know that they still hadn’t told you. Mick said that you’d be notified when the case went to trial. That started two days ago.” He shook his head. 

    “Michael told me you weren’t here.” 

    Dean was jerked from his direction, finding more tears in his husband’s eyes. “He was right.” Their shoulders touched. “They airlifted me to Saint Mary’s in Blue Springs. They were headed for Kansas City, but Saint Mary’s answered a lot faster. Out of what Henriksen told me it was better that way. There wasn’t much attention drawn to me in a smaller place like Blue Springs. It was there I became a ‘Hunter.’ Part of some super secret Federal agent book club.” 

    “You were gone so long,” Cas whispered, holding the cap to his chest, and feeling the ring rest on his finger. 

    “I wasn’t awake when all these decisions were made for me. Trust me if I was I would have kicked somebody’s ass.  When I actually was, it wasn’t safe for me or anyone here. Azazel would have come after me, you, Sam… Adam or Mom. I couldn’t stand the thought of that. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.” 

    “What?” Those blue eyes widened. Cas’s mind had latched onto the first few words

    “Docs put me in a medically induced coma. I was fighting a little  _ too  _ hard. I didn’t wake up until… around the middle of January.” Dean scooted so he faced Cas more. “Technically I went against Doc’s orders by walking here. But I couldn’t take it anymore.” He gave a lopsided grin. “And I wanted my husband to accompany me to my retirement party.” 

    “Dean-” The scold was on the tip of Castiel’s lips. “Wait, what?” 

    “Yeah,” Dean sighed heavily. “I have metal pins in my leg now. Range of motion is limited. I’ll be really lucky if I don’t have a limp for the rest of my life. I can’t fight fires like that. My knee, hell my whole  _ leg  _ is too screwed up.” Dean shook his head. “It’s gonna kill me, but that's the way things are gonna be.” His laugh was flooded with mixed feelings. “Bobby always wanted an extra hand at the shop. He was joking the other day that he’d change the sign to  _ Singer and Son _ .” 

    Cas had been watching him as he spoke. Those blue eyes taking in every little detail. When Dean was finished, the pad of Cas’s finger smoothed over the newest pin. Newest medal. 

    “They’re callin’ me a hero, for my actions in the law office fire.” Dean took up Castiel’s hand. “I’m still going to be a first responder, maybe even help out the department every now and then. Nothing will change that. But- but maybe this is a chance. That fate bullshit that you always go on about. How things always right themselves in the end.” 

    “Emerson said that.” 

    Dean scoffed light-heartedly. “You gonna go all Shakespeare on me now?” 

    “I can definitely go Botticelli and  Dürer on you.” 

    “No Michelangelo?” 

    Cas snorts, “hell no. Michelangelo may have been a sculpting genius, but he was an absolute dick of a person. He had already been paid for a job before he skipped out and went to paint the Sistine Chapel. But thank God he did, or Botticelli wouldn’t have had the start he did.” 

    Dean smiled. “I have no fucking clue what you just said, but I’ll take that as a yes.” 

  
  


It took a while, a very long while for Dean to get situated. To create a new habit that didn’t involve going to the firehouse every day. Of course, the crew welcomed him whenever he did. He and Bobby were in charge of tuning up the rigs -at least what the firemen and women couldn’t do themselves. The Winchester household busied with weddings, birthdays, and anniversaries. Of course when the time came, welcoming children. Jack was the first to come home with them right before their niece was born. Sam had been so proud that day. The next was little Emma. Jack had taken to her right away, sometimes helping her with schoolwork. It wasn’t always an apple pie life. He and Cas still had an argument or two here and there. Some days his knee bothered him more than others, though, his family always seemed to push him out of and dips he managed to fall into. 

    The kids certainly kept him on his toes. Work could be a handful at times too, now that Bobby took on the cruisers and anyone else who had the sense to do business with Singer and Son. Not to forget his first summer of just being a first responder it had rained like hell. Dean was right there with the best of them figuring out flood control. 

    Cas was content where he was teaching Art and Art History. Dean makes sure they have Sunday morning coffee a few Sundays a month. He would never admit it, but every once and a while he’ll order a Milk and Cookies. 

    Every now and then he’d catch the wail of a siren. The honk of the engine’s horn. He knew they’d be pulling out on another round. To save a building, pull people out of wrecked cars. They’d be jumping off the truck as if it was still him giving orders. Even if it was Benny who stepped up to the plate. All their fallen brothers and sisters standing beside them as they run into another burning building.  Dean could never help the smile that curled his mouth. 

 

But he had already sparked his own fire. He finally did catch a flame, the very one he’d be damned to ever let go out again. A blaze of memory and life. He still had a long life ahead of him. He only hoped that he’d be able to pass a lot of that down to his children. That maybe one day, they’d catch a flame of their own. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The happily ever after (with a mound of tissues)   
> Oh, yes... guys I got something to tell you: This was my very first Destiel story ever ;) 
> 
> If you liked this one, I've mentioned it once before, but I'm planning another Destiel story that I'm calling Faultless. Stay tuned with my works for whenever it'll come out - not sure yet, I still have to survive my busy summer first xD 
> 
> I honest to everything wish I didn’t write this so I could read it and not know every single thing that was about to happen. Truthfully, I wrote this to be the kind of story that I might read when I was really in an angsty mood. I think that’s what's different about this one for me, is that I was taking on more of my emotions as a reader while writing it -though that kicked in more towards the end. Looking over this, how the plot has evolved - all of your reactions… it makes me wonder about my “up next” projects and ideas. How far I could actually take them, and how committed readers can be.   
>  This book is my epiphany to how I’ve grown as a writer. To my writing in general. You guys triggered that. My English teachers through my years of schooling from middle school to high school have all pushed me to write in some way. They all told me I was good at writing, and whenever someone told me that I’d just shrug. I knew I was better than a lot of people in my grade, but I never believed I was THAT good.   
>  This story is at 5K and it’s not even a year old. I’m a very wordy person -if you haven't noticed by my writing- and I have nothing that can even come close to how thankful I am for each and every one of you. (yeah, chick flick moments… bla bla. And cliche be damned) 
> 
> Thank you all, I love you guys <3   
> I use to have a motto that I used all the time, and right now is the moment to bring it back. 
> 
> Dream, create, inspire. 
> 
> ~ Ty


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